#he thought of wanting to die so much in those chapters it sickens me

[p4nishers]

i truly believe fool's fate was the closest fitz ever came to realizing his feelings for beloved. after beloved died, he stopped caring. before, there was always a layer to his thoughts, always a little hesitation or a word that dismissed the moments full meaning ("i felt strangely at peace", etc) bc that was safe, right? if he had a mental wall in his thoughts about beloved he surely couldn't feel anything else he wasn't saying thus he wouldn't have to explain himself. but after beloved died, that stops. he doesn't care anymore. like would he have ever thought something like "my dream was dead in my arms" before?? or saying there were "things he would have said to him" if he knew beloved was actually gonna die?? what the FUCK was that about or "the man i had been would not survive this loss" or the fact that he was willing to DIE in beloved's place. like i genuinely think this was the most honest we've ever seen him and he came sooo close to realizing his feelings but then beloved left him and he was forced to suppress them again bc he could NOT be in love w beloved if he wanted a happily ever after with molly. he couldn't be in love. no. imagine him realizing it w that poem and then repressing it bc now that he couldn't have a future w beloved (which he was FULLY willing to have he was fully willing to leave molly and his DAUGHTER behind to go w beloved) he WOULD have the future he 'always wanted' w molly and i think that's exactly why he skipped so much in that chapter and felt so shallow bc he genuinely was trying to convince himself that this was what he wanted and this would finally make him happy but it was not. all he got was content. all he got was an ever after. all he got was burned letters to beloved he would never send. like. god. it makes me so sad to think he was finally close to the truth only to repress it as self-defense.

[soap-ify]

nsfw below , mdni.

YOU'RE AN ANGEL, I'M A DOG | simon 'ghost' riley x reader.

04 — so when you leave me, i should die.

chapter summary — you go over to simon's place again.

tags / cw — reader has anxiety, reader has a panic attack, angst, tiny glimpse of reader's past though it won't really ever be explained (up to your imagination), self deprecating thoughts, lack of communication, some implied suicidal thoughts, unhealthy thoughts, situationship and codependency, nsfw, no foreplay, p in v, use of safeword, fluff, like wow finally, hurt/comfort, implied aftercare. [4.5k words]

☆ reader written to have afab anatomy but is referred to with gender neutral terms.

masterlist | ao3 | prev | next

Your week couldn’t have gotten any worse.

Seated inside a tiny stall in the staff’s restroom with a hand clasped on your mouth to somehow lower the sounds of your shaky gasps — you almost wished that you had taken the day off.

Today had been going alright, you were serving people their orders normally in the cafe. Sweet and simple. You didn’t know where it all went wrong — was it the way the cafe seemed too loud today? The way you could somehow hear every whisper and sound? You hated that this had gotten so repititive, it made your skin crawl and throat uncomfortably tighten, eyes frantically looking around. You hated it, it was getting too much. Everything was getting too much.

All you could do was mumble some shaky excuses to your co-workers before hiding in the restroom, and here you were now.

Fucking stop crying, your raging mind tried to formulate while you were busy trying to ground yourself, leg uncomfortably bouncing while tears streamed down your cheeks — an useless attempt at cleaning your ruined state. Breathe in, breathe out. One hand was tightly tugging your chest, as if trying to rip your heart out and throw it across the room just so it could give you a damn break.

Your stomach felt so sick, ears ringing while your whimpers and hics echoed in the thankfully empty restroom. Though someone just passing by the door could probably hear your miserable cries, deciding not to help at all. Not that you’d want any help, it made you feel even more sick.

Look around. Look at the objects. This was nothing new to you. You had always done it alone, and you could do it again. Your blurred vision made it harder to see, your teary eyes looking around the stall and naming everything you could find — the toilet paper, the door, the little crack beneath the door and… a smudge of lipstick at the wall?

Slowly. breathe in, breathe out. You squeezed your eyes shut, mumbling quiet muffled instructions to yourself that you could barely remember in this state while your hands tightly clutched onto your arms, hugging yourself desperately and taking deep breaths.

You could do this.

Your manager had let you leave the work early after seeing your distraught state despite you having tried your best to hide it. Those pitied stares she threw at your direction made you feel nothing but sickening guilt that was cheekily comfortable in your throat, making you feel so damn incompetent for always creating a problem here and there.

Though you had to admit that you were way too at edge this week, and you hated that you knew exactly why. It had been four days since you last contacted Simon, since that happened. You weren’t being bitter or distant, no. You just didn’t know what to make up of everything at this point.

“You don’t ever shut up, do you?”

“I just want to sleep. I don’t need you here.”

His words had been swirling inside your head ever since that day, making you feel more and more melancholic. And an ugly part of you was mad at the fact that he had said it so nonchalantly — you wished that he had at least shown some anger or yelled at you. Shout and shove the idea in your head that he didn’t need you anymore.

But he didn’t. Were you so used to your parents’ shouts and harsh demands that you could barely think without them anymore? Probably. You knew you didn’t need their cruelly stated orders to function properly, but that’s how your body was trained with that from the beginning, wasn’t it?

The way Simon had always managed to keep himself reserved without just lashing out was hauntingly beautiful at times — the walls around him so high and mighty that you doubt that anyone would be brave enough to climb up the rocky bumps, no matter how bruised they may get.

And that’s what Simon was, wasn’t he? An undiscovered, tall and dangerous mountain. Too isolated to be found, too hard to be climbed. Alone in this miserable world.

It was as if that last interaction with him had somehow made you understand him a bit more. Despite your confused and depressed state during that, you could almost see the subtle and barely visible glint in his eyes that was almost familiar to yours when you were internally panicking.

Oh well, maybe you were just overthinking — reading too much into the interactions to somehow still keep the hope that you could be the brave knight that’d break the walls and save him. But save him from what?

Weakly stumbling out of the exit with your legs feeling somewhat numb, you decided to go home straightaway and find some new show to start, or maybe a movie — anything to keep your mind off of everything that was going downhill lately.

It wasn’t that easy, really. Even when you had managed to scurry into your apartment and change into some comfortable pajamas before sitting on your bed, your laptop placed on your lap as you watched a movie; all you could feel was the pain weighing on your heart.

You desperately wanted to contact Simon, hear his voice and just listen to it all day without any second thought. You wished that he’d just ramble your ear off, even if it was somewhat uncharacteristic for him. And you wanted to know if his fever had gone away.

God, you felt like some obsessive freak who just couldn’t leave a person alone. But every day without him caused your anxiety to spike up and the familiar sense of impending heartbreak to unveil itself. If he wanted you both to end your agreement, then at least he’d say something, right?

You missed him badly. You missed the way the tone of his voice would very subtly shift depending on his mood, and missed the way his silent presence would bring you a sense of comfort, just like the rainy weather — cold but comforting nonetheless.

You had your phone in your hand, completely distracted from the movie playing on your laptop, the chat between you and Simon opened. You had been staring at the screen for a few minutes.

And you had been staring at the little typing… appearing and disappearing after every few seconds at the bottom of the screen.

Hey.

Hi, love.

It’s been a while.

You okay?

Simon had been typing, deleting, retyping and deleting the texts over and over again like a madman for the past half hour, his thumbs slightly trembling in agitation.

Something in him screamed at him to stop, that he didn’t deserve to reach out after what he did a few days ago, especially after that. At this point, it was a shock that he hadn’t gotten a reward for saying shit he didn’t mean to.

He was about to give up and put his phone away before a loud ring of the notification pop-up caught him off guard, stopping his action.

You: Hello Si. I hope your health has gotten better.

Oh shit, were you online this whole time? Embarrassment crawled on the back of his neck, though a small relieved smile bloomed on his lips once his eyes read your message repeatedly.

But his smile was quick to fade, his hand shakily putting the phone away before he buried his face in his hands, a muffled groan leaving his lips. Why the fuck were you texting him? You were supposed to be angry at him, be rightfully mad and even block him. But here you were, actually reaching out to the wild dog caged for a damn reason.

Plus he was sure that you saw the perfume on the couch. It was too much, it was all just too much. You probably saw it. He was horrible. It wasn’t cheating, it wasn’t anything, but he felt as if he had betrayed himself and you. He was so quick to throw that damn little bottle away when he saw it laying on the couch once you were gone, a poor attempt to forget about that whole ordeal.

He felt sick to the stomach, the urge to throw up too tempting. Good job, Simon. He rubbed his exhausted eyes with his fingers, clicking his tongue before grabbing his phone once more.

You were so sweet, so sickeningly sweet that he just wanted to devour you in order to please his sweet tooth. But at the same time, he wanted to keep you far away from his ruined self.

After all, what more could a stray dog do other than messing everything up?

At times like these, he wished that he still had his mother to give him some advice. Years without her had made everything about her blurry in his head, but he could still vaguely remember the warmth of her embrace and the welcoming scent of the meal cooked by her very hands. He could remember Tommy, and the house they lived in, and—

And him. It all returned back to him, all of Simon’s thought processes always ending back to his father.

Simon was his father’s son after all, his blood. Was he him though?

Fucking hell. He tried to shake these thoughts away and focused back on replying to you.

Simon: You should come over.

If you want to.

God forbid he ever tries to have a proper conversation.

“I swear I am fine.”

Simon’s soft grumbles were not affecting you at all, your hand gently pressing against the bare skin of his neck to check his temperature, brows knitted in concentration.

“Just checking.” You mumbled sheepishly, slowly pulling away.

He could see the vivid signs of exhaustion etched onto your pretty face — dark circles adorning your under eyes and your smile all struggled. He knew it was all his doing, he was the one who made you leave all broken the other day. Apologies stood right at the tip of his tongue, but his throat would constrict as soon as he’d attempt at doing something, anything to show you that he knew how much he fucked up.

You had just arrived at his flat a few minutes ago, and the fact that you instantly started to check on his health made his heart ache horribly — both in a good and bad way. Why must you be so sweet to him? Why must he always bite the hand that is willing to show affection to him?

Both of you sat on the couch, silent and clearly on edge, eyes looking at anything but each other. I am sorry, Simon thought, You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Don’t leave.

He remembers reading somewhere that communication does wonders to one’s relationship with the other, and he knew that person was right. He had given this advice to many others too — such as Johnny who was sobbing drunk on his shoulder once, babbling about some lass who had rejected him or something. Simon was great at giving advice, though he just couldn’t apply those to himself.

“Those meds you gave me the other day helped.” He spoke gruffly, brown eyes slowly drifting over to you, watching your shoulders ease up slightly.

“I’m glad…” You smiled, still not looking at him, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“How was work?” He attempted to keep the conversation going, though once he saw you visibly stiffen up at his question, his brows furrowed a bit in concern. What happened?

“Um…” Your words were caught up in your throat, your hands restlessly clenching onto the bottom of your shirt while your eyes lowered down to the ground, teeth chewing onto your bottom lip. There was no use of lying to him, you knew that, but a part of you was scared that he’d think you were talking too much again.

“It was bad.” You tried to be as vague as possible, not wanting to touch on whatever happened in the restroom.

Simon didn’t reply for a good few seconds, thick silence falling between you two once more. You assumed that he had nothing else to say, or simply didn’t wish to. You hoped that he had nothing to say. The last thing you wanted was to burden him with your problems.

That was until you felt the gentle touch of his calloused fingers on the side of your jaw, his hands ungloved as he gently tilted your face so you’d look at him. Your breath was caught up in your throat, eyes widening just a bit as you looked at him.

This was one of the many moments where you wished you could see past the mask he wore, to see the expression that would be adorning his face. It was a desperate ugly feeling that clung onto your heart, yearning to feel what he was feeling. To see what he was seeing.

Just a situationship, just a fucking situationship. Your mind was tired of reminding this to you over and over again, though something in you told you that it wasn’t just that anymore. And maybe he thought the same way. You didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

“You can talk to me about it, you know.” His words seemed carefully put together, as if afraid to show more care that could possibly break the barriers he had built around him.

Tell me. I need you to tell me.

“Just… Just got too overwhelmed.” You grumbled a bit, your bottom lip a bit bruised from all the harsh chewing you had been unconsciously doing throughout the day. “M’just so tired, Simon…”

Tired of us. Tired of my job. Tired of myself. Tired of you.

Simon’s hand moved down to your shoulder, gently rubbing against the stiff muscles while he leaned forward, tilting his head to the side. “I know… Me too.” He whispered, voice low and quiet.

Me too. That’s the most Simon would ever let himself open up to you — just a vague sentence that could mean anything and everything. Just a line he’d never dare to elaborate, leaving you confused and longing.

“Si…” You breathed out, hands carefully reaching out before holding onto his forearms, leaning closer. Do something. You needed him, needed him to just shut your brain down and make all the nagging go away, to make you forget about reality once again.

Your eyes scanned his masked face desperately, brows a bit furrowed as your fingers tightened around his forearms, almost digging into his tatted skin. Distressed, hungry. You were afraid that if he pulled his hands away, you'd stop breathing. Please hold me, hold me so tight that you are in my skin, just like the way I am holding you.

And Simon saw it all too well. In fact, he saw himself in you at that moment, and it made him have this sudden urge to bash his head against the wall.

“You need me?” He asked in a soft voice, his thumb brushing against your chapped bottom lip and gently pulling it down to part your lips.

“Yes…” You nodded, heat blooming in your cheeks while his thumb continued to caress your lips like that.

It was a sickeningly good feeling to always hear that from you — made him want to shower you with all the affection his wounded heart could muster but at the same time, it made him want to pull himself away from you and just disappear.

His hands gently found their way to your waist, holding you carefully before pulling you onto his lap with ease, propping you upright. He wanted to kiss the exhaustion away, he desperately wanted to. But he couldn’t. So instead, his hands begin to gently knead and massage your lower back, his head pressing against your neck while his fingers slid under your shirt and rub your skin, feeling how tense you were.

“Feel that? You’re so tense, love…” He grumbled softly, feeling the way your hips were trying to grind against him, movements sloppy yet laced with an undying need.

Something in Simon’s head couldn’t help but feel a bit strange about all of this. Just why were you being so needy today? Not that he disliked it, of course, given the way his cock was literally stirring in his pants right now. But he had never seen you like this before, almost initiating everything. What was going in that pretty head of yours?

You, on the other hand, knew too well about how you were behaving right now. You just wanted him to keep going, to keep him with you, to forget about the whole world. Your hands tightly gripped onto his shoulders while you gently rubbed your clothed heat against the bulge forming underneath his pants, trying to push the raging storm of thoughts in your head away. Go away. Just let me have this, please.

Soft shaky breaths and moans left your lips, your body shuddering when you felt Simon’s right hand moving down to your trousers, gently starting to slide them down. You lifted your hips up to accommodate his movements, your body burning up, all unsatiated.

“P-Please, I…” Your words were cut off when you felt his thumb gently press against your puffy folds through the soft fabric of your panties, gently rubbing up and down before feeling your clit gently pressing against his thumb.

“Hush, I know…” He cooed, but went quiet when your hand reached down to grab his wrist, shaking your head.

“No, I need you.” You whined under your breath, panting softly before you hastily started to unbuckle his belt, leaving the hunk of a man underneath you startled. What the fuck?

Something was wrong, he could feel it. You were never the one to turn down foreplay, you always loved it. But he just couldn’t speak out, letting you undo his pants and gently unzip it, tugging his briefs down while his eyes tried to read the look on your face — distressed, needy and… angry?

He swallowed the forming lump on his throat and let his hands gently rest on your thighs, trying to soothe you while rubbing the soft plush, biting back a groan when your hand gently wrapped around his girthy hard cock, your hips lifting up once more as you tried to line it against your entrance.

“Simon…” His name rolled off your tongue as a sweet moan once you felt the tip of his cock gently press against your hole, slowly sliding down on the length. His hands held you by your hips to guide you, being careful as to not push you down completely on it, feeling your gummy walls stretch around his meaty cock. He was glad that you were wet already, the fact that you didn’t let him prepare you beforehand was still eating him up a bit inside.

“Careful now, love.” He chuckled a bit under his breath, leaning back a bit so you could have more space. Your hands found their way back to his shoulders, holding them for balance as you begin to move up and down on his cock, your pace clumsy and urgent, trying to feel him fully inside you as much as you could. Your head pushed back a bit at the stretch, whimpering softly the way his cock pulsated inside you.

Your fingernails begin scratching and digging tightly onto his skin, dragging down so you could properly feel his biceps where his short sleeves ended, scratching there too. It soon dawned onto you that you were not just desperate, but very angry too. Angry at him for making you come back to him, angry at yourself for not being able to stop your feelings for him, angry at your damn manager for always giving you those looks of disdain — you were just angry at everything.

And it felt so good to let it out, your fingers leaving red unbruising marks on his skin that were going to fade away after a few minutes, your cunt drooling over his cock as you continued to move up and down his length, grinding against him. He wasn’t even wincing, and it made you momentarily forget about the fact that you were literally scratching him and just focus solely on the way his cock was rubbing against your sweet spots. It felt so good, oh it felt so good.

But then it didn’t. Your heart suddenly felt too heavy, your movements getting more unsteady as you became vividly aware od everything. It was overwhelming, too overwhelming.

Simon noticed the tears forming in your eyes, alarms going off in his head as he quickly stilled you by grabbing you tight, making you whimper and choke back on a sob, quickly covering your mouth in horror. Did he hurt you? He was just as horrified, his balaclava doing nothing to hide that since those blank eyes of his were all wide with concern now.

“Love…? Did I hurt you?” He cautiously asked, his thumb trying to soothe you by rubbing your skin. You looked at him helplessly, unable to explain the sudden train of emotions that just slammed into you hard.

“N-No…” You quickly shook your head, your grip loosening around his arms, trembling in his grasp as a tear slid down your cheek. “I don’t know… I… Red.” You squeaked out, looking away quickly.

Red. It was the safeword you both had decided when you first fucked months ago. You remember his persistence in making sure that you would use the safeword when you needed too, you remember the strange unidentified feelings in your chest at that time.

You always thought it was just a one time thing.

Simon gently pulled himself out of you, deciding to pull away though your hands continued to cling onto him, a silent plea to not let go.

His heart ached horribly at the thought that he made you cry. Everything around him was just a blur at this point, his sole focus being you. You needed him. Once setting you down properly on his lap again, his arms wrapped around you and pulled you into his warm embrace, letting you hug him tight as you buried your face into his neck, a wrecked sob leaving your lips.

“D-Do you hate me?” You sniffled weakly, his hand rubbing circles on your back.

“What makes you think that?”

“I-I just annoy you all the time. I know you’re mad at me… I am always bothering you with my feelings a-and…” Another sob dissolved your words until you just couldn’t speak anymore, your body shaking in his arms. “I am sorry…”

Your words were making his throat tighten up even more, an agonising pain spreading inside him as he tried to comfort you, shaking his head. “No, I don’t hate you. I could never…” He promised truthfully, pausing for a bit before speaking in a much quieter tone. “Don’t apologise. It’s me, I’m sorry…” Sorry for everything.

The words sounded so foreign, and felt not enough at the same time. Simon didn’t think he could ever do something that’d be enough for you in the way you deserved.

So he did what he could do, hold you and rub your back gently till your sobs subsided, soft hics leaving your lips as you tried to calm down, throat aching and face all teary. “M’tired…”

“I know, love…” He whispered softly, his hands gently moving up once you pulled your head back, gently cupping your cheeks. “Everything’s been shitty lately, I know.” He sighed.

It felt so good to hold you face. You weren’t flinching away from his tainted hands. Instead, you leaned into his touch, and that broke something inside him.

He slowly pulled back before hooking his finger underneath his balaclava, beginning to lift it up. You froze, teary eyes going wide as he lifted it up till his nose. Holy fucking hell, oh my—

He might as well just take the whole damn thing off at this point, though you didn’t bug him on that, too busy staring at the two scars that ran down his jaw, one small scar adorning the side of his upper lip. His lips. They somehow were just as what you imagined, in a good way. You swallowed and tried to speak, words getting caught up in your throat.

He leaned forward and didn’t wait for you to say anything, gently brushing his lips against the tear streaks on your cheeks, as if soothing the pain away. Your lips trembled at his little act, heart on the verge of exploding. “S-Simon… You’re beautiful.”

His movements halted at your words, lips parting a bit before he breathed out, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek as a form of ‘thank you’. Too intimate. Those words rang in his head like a blaring siren, though he chose to ignore them for now.

I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry. Each kiss on your face was an apology. Just a poor dog trying to please his owner — the one who didn’t care about all the fleas on him, all the dirt and all the flaws.

Simon didn’t know what it was that he felt for you, but if it was love, then he was awful at it.

“Why…?” You sniffled, unable to hold in a soft giggle from leaving you due to the ticklish feelings of the kisses he was giving you, your heart slowly warming up. It was a genuinely question. Why? Is this affection now just temporary, and did something change within him? You were confused.

“Just felt like it.” You both knew that he didn’t just feel like lifting his mask up.

You nodded and just put your whole weight on him, relaxing in his arms while he started rocking you back and forth, your hands finding their way to cup his face. Next time you’ll make sure he takes his whole mask off.

What are we now? That question stood right at the tip of your tongue, but you knew asking that will end the comfort of this moment, and you didn’t want that. So you held your words in, feeling him being the most vulnerable he has ever been with you.

“Can we hang out sometime…?” You asked softly, earning a nod from him.

“Sure, love.” He pressed one final kiss on your forehead before sighing and leaning back on the couch, closing his eyes for a while. “Let’s… Let’s get you cleaned up, ‘kay?” He asked and you reluctantly hummed, tiredly getting off his lap.

You let him lead you to his bathroom, his touches so sweet that it hurt yet felt tender at the same time.

But for now, you both could just bask into the comfort and warmth of the moment — let the tears be covered up by kisses and pretend that everything was alright.

notes — don't be fooled by the fluff hehe >:3.

[theragethatisdesire]

much ado about nothing chapter 5 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

i have successfully kicked my writer's block to the curb and am ready to pick back up on plug!eren!!!! woohoo!! this is the part of the story where it gets really plot heavy and there's a lot of moving parts, so it's been a fun exercise to write and brainstorm. if anything is confusing or u have any theories/questions PLEASE hit my inbox i'm so down bad for plug eren i could talk about him for days.

get ready to meet a new character who is......not the best lol. this is also the first chapter written in eren's pov :o things are about to get interesting!

still haven't caught up? series masterlist HERE <3

specific cws: mentions of smut but nothing outright, alcohol use, swearing, u know the drill

-

“If music be the food of love, play on. / Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, / The appetite may sicken and so die.” - Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare (Act I, Scene 1)

Eren is, admittedly, a romantic person, especially given his occupation. Not romantic in the cheesy, buying-flowers and kissing-in-the-rain sense, but he appreciates the little details of life. He loves autumn, when the leaves catch on fire with the changing of the season. He loves the little crook of a woman’s neck, that slope where it goes from tendon to shoulder to collarbone. He can appreciate a good bourbon; after years of raiding his dad’s stash, he developed a palate for it early on. Eren’s romantic nature leads him to believe in signs. When the universe tells him something, he listens.

The text still sat in his inbox unopened, marinating in its own bizarre, heartbreaking nature.

> heyyyy lover boy! i’m back from austria! missed u, let’s catch up ;)

Eren knows that Breeze knows him, knows him well enough to understand that his three-week radio silence isn’t a no, it’s a maybe. He hates himself for not immediately texting her back and telling her to fuck off, but after his conversation with you, he thinks it might be the universe telling him it’s safe this time, that he won’t end up a shell of himself. Maybe.

You had been firm in your assertion that you and Eren were better off as friends, and as much as he wanted to fight it, Eren respects women. As much as he can when he’s prone to wrenching their jaws open and spitting in their mouths while he’s balls deep inside them, at least. He’s disappointed, but he respects it, and if he’s honest, he likes you.

He likes your sharp humor, likes the way you tend to keep your hair up off of your neck, likes the way your eyes light up when someone gives you an excuse to talk about your studies. He hasn’t been “just friends” with a woman in a long time, but it’s refreshing, an excuse to go grab a coffee and shoot the shit like a normal person instead of lurking in the corner of a frat party handing out pills like a perverse ice cream truck.

The last three weeks of “friends” have been the best Eren’s had in a long time. You’re easy, that’s what he likes about you. He can drop the cold mask he wears so often, giggle over a stupid meme, listen intently as you prattle on about some long-dead 18th-century author that was “so ahead of her time!”, smirk when you chastise him for doodling little hearts and flowers all over your coursework.

Sure, he still steals a glance down your shirt when he can, and he’d never admit it, but he thinks about you late at night. He thinks about you when he’s in the shower, when he’s got himself in his hand, panting and swearing under his breath, but he manages to feel enough guilt over it to still consider you a friend. You’re caring and considerate and easy, wholesome fun, unlike someone that’s made a sudden reappearance into his life.

After that first night, just when he was starting to entertain the thought of promoting you from one night stand to official fuck buddy, the closest thing to commitment Eren allows himself to maintain these days, Breeze swept back into his life, and you hit the brakes on him. While it may not have been the sign he wanted to receive, Eren’s a romantic, and he listens to the universe, especially when it goes so far out of its way to tell him something.

He’s decided to let Breeze stew for a little while longer. Campus will be clearing out for Thanksgiving break soon, along with most of his business, and he’s going to wait until his hands are empty of work and you before answering her. Plus, she had flitted off to Europe after college like their entire relationship had been nothing more than a passing phase; Eren’s owed at least a little bit of pettiness, right?

> paradise ath 1130! see uthere ;)

Eren snorts at your text. Being as uptight as you are about grammar (you’re constantly hounding him about his texting style, and he’s been making them even more incorrect just to hear you berate him), he knows you’re not just texting quickly, you’re drunk.

“Yo, ‘min!” Eren calls into the kitchen, an excited flutter already rising in his chest beneath his hoodie.

“Yeah?” Armin’s head pops around the doorframe, a dab of ketchup on the corner of his mouth.

“Wanna go to Paradise later?”

“The club?” Armin’s nose wrinkles. Connie’s head appears right beside Armin, a wide grin splitting his face.

“Oh, hell yeah,” Connie answers for both of them before Armin has the chance to shoot the idea down, “who’s going?”

“Like you don’t know the answer to that,” Armin scoffs, ducking back into the kitchen with a roll of his eyes.

“I never took her for a ‘club’ type of girl,” Connie adds air-quotes to emphasize his confusion.

Eren mulls that over for a moment; he doesn’t really take you for a club type of girl either, but from the sound of it, Historia and Sasha have already done the job of getting you good and drunk and talking you into a night on the town. Eren’s always wanted to see what you’re like when you’re well and truly fucked up; every time you indulge him with a story from college, he ends up laughing so hard he’s clutching his stomach and gasping for breath.

Supposedly, when you go all out, you drop the mom-friend act and become a little less tame; is this Eren’s opportunity to get an eyeful for himself? He’s not waiting around to find out.

Eren shrugs. “Come help me make these runs and we’ll go. Armin, you’re driving.”

The drop-offs are uneventful, and as soon as Eren steps foot inside the club, his nose scrunches with distaste. Ironically, he’s never been into the partying scene, much preferring a quiet beer at Scout’s or a blunt on the couch to a club. The music’s horribly loud, bass thudding through the fabric of his hoodie and beating against his chest, and as he looks for you, he can barely see through the mass of bodies and the fog machines. You’re here? It’s difficult for Eren to imagine you, in your favorite flannel and those cute little Vans he likes, tucked against the bar throwing back your signature craft beer. As Connie urges him and Armin in the direction of the bar, calling for green tea shots, Eren nearly regrets his decision, until fingernails dig into his shoulder, spinning him on his heels.

“Hey, you.”

Eren blinks stupidly as you grin up at him through thick, black lashes. He’s never even dared to imagine you like you are now, piercing eyes gazing up at him through a heavy dusting of makeup and the shortest, tightest dress Eren’s ever seen hugging every inch of your curves. You look sinful in a way he’s never seen you before, not even when he was holding you tight to him and wrenching out orgasm after orgasm from your body. He gulps.

“Holy shit– hey,” he lets you pull him in for an overexcited hug, bites down on the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the bulge already swelling in his pants.

“I missed you!” You pinch his cheeks, much to Eren’s dismay.

“Just saw you yesterday– quit pinchin’ me. What are you even doing here? Didn’t think this was your scene.” Eren has to actively keep his eyes trained on your face; there’s a little bead of sweat traveling down the expanse of skin between your breasts that’s making his mouth water. Friends, he scoffs in his mind. Are you trying to kill him?

“Well, it’s not, but Sasha says I need to be more fun, and Stor says I need to find a boyfriend.” You gesture around like it’s obvious. Eren cocks an eyebrow, ignoring the inappropriate envy that twists in his stomach at the mention of the word ‘boyfriend’.

Boyfriends never like the guy friends, it’s practically a law of nature. If you’re dating around, it’s only a matter of time before some square in a button-down steals you away from your coffee dates and movie nights with Eren, but he can’t get too caught up in that now, not when you’re looking up at him all dizzy and sexy and bursting at the seams.

“Don’t know if this is the place for that.”

“That’s what I said!” Oh, you’re drunk drunk, all of your movements overexaggerated and shaky. It makes him want to laugh seeing you like this; his little book nerd, trashed and mere inches away from having her ass out at a club. Well, either laugh or drag you into the bathroom to bend you over the sink. He can’t be sure.

“Hey mama!” Connie shouts over at you, handing you a shot. Eren has half a mind to snatch it out of his hand after catching the slurring in your voice, but he’s too late; you throw it back without so much as a shudder, grinning all wide and wet and pretty when you swallow.

“I didn’t think you’d actually show up,” you tell him, pulling him down by his collar so you can speak into his ear. Eren has to bite back a groan at the feel of your hot lips against his ear. Friends, he reminds himself urgently, pushing you back from him but keeping his hands firm on your hips, relishing in the way your flesh gives under his grip.

“You know the rules. You call, I come.”

“That’s what she said,” you snicker, pinching his cheek again.

“Cut that out!”

“Make me.” Oh fuck, Eren’s going to die. He’s going to die if you keep looking at him like that, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and fuck-me eyes on him.

“You’re not being very friendly,” he manages to choke out, trying his hardest to give you a suspicious look through the dizzying wave of images that flash through his brain. You with your mouth full of him. You spread out on his bed, back arched and fingers twisted in his hair. The little “o” your mouth made when you rode him for the first time. Eren wants to smack himself, jump in a cold shower, something. Get a grip, dude.

“Maybe not,” you shrug, eyes darting over to the bar. “Hurry up and grab a drink, I wanna dance.”

“Not much of a dancer,” Eren admits, taking the beer that Connie hands him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll do all the work.”

Eren isn’t sure if he likes or loves the sound of that, powerless against that stupid little dress you’ve got on as you drag him behind you to the mass of bodies he had so disdainfully eyed on his way in. He’s greeted by a loud round of shrieking, one more pinch to the cheek by Historia and a slap on the ass from Sasha. You make a show of teasing him for how pink his face gets, but luckily, your friends are instantly distracted by Armin and Connie’s arrival right behind him. You pull him back down, glossy lips pressed right against his ear.

“I really like this song.” You’re barely audible over the pounding music, but even if Eren hadn’t heard what you said, he’d get the gist from the way you grind against his thigh, slow and sensual. Maybe you are actually trying to kill him.

“Yeah?” He’s breathless, irreparably and embarrassingly caught in the little web you’ve woven.

“Yeah.” You’re moving harder against him now, throwing your arms around his neck and grinding your hips into his. Eren’s only thought is to let his hands fly back to your hips, let you use him like a stripper pole to show off.

He can feel eyes on him, not the eyes of friends, but of other men around him, wondering who the lucky asshole is that’s getting the royal treatment from a girl as hot as you. If he were to be truthful, it’s getting him off, how every eye is on you and, by proxy, him, holding you like a lifeline as you let the beat rock through your body.

So this, this is the party girl you claim to have living deep inside you. This seductive, electric creature moving tantalizing against his body, this is the source of the stories Historia tells him that make you blush? How you could ever be embarrassed of this is beyond him; you’re like a little devil, sent straight from hell just to torture him, and Eren’s mouth is watering.

Song after song goes by, and you don’t let up, don’t let him catch his breath for a moment, moving from facing him to pressing your ass into his crotch and then back again, arms above your head or wrapped around his neck. Eren wishes he was mentally sound enough at the moment to feel ashamed that you can absolutely feel how hard he is through his pants right now, but he’s drunk on you, letting you press into him so insistently he has to tug your dress down for you, letting you drive him so crazy that he’s grateful for the loud music now. He’d die if Connie or Armin could hear the way he’s grunting and groaning low under his breath, powerless underneath you.

Suddenly, as if you haven’t just been riling him up for the last half hour, you back away enough to face him, shaking your empty cup and him and mouthing something that Eren’s still too dizzy to make out.

“Huh?”

“Get me another drink!” you shout over the bass, laughing at him.

Eren nods stupidly, darting away from you before he can grab your jaw, pull your lips to his like he so desperately wants to. Finally out of the throng of bodies, he can feel his head clearing, some semblance of sanity crashing over him. What the fuck has gotten into him? It was just one night, and you’ve kept him at arm’s length ever since, only seeing each other under the guise of coffee, or a beer, or Eren insisting you need to continue your education in the wonders of horror films. You’re drunk, that’s the only explanation; drunk and teasing him like you aren’t going to wake up and throw him right back into the friendzone. He rests both elbows on the bar, shaking his head like he’ll be able to knock some sense into himself if he rattles his brain around a little.

Eren orders your vodka soda and a beer and a shot for himself, something to clear his head and keep his blood pressure manageable. Hopefully, at least.

When he turns around, drinks in hand, that plan flies out the door. There you are, center of the dance floor, hands above your head and hips moving like you’re intentionally trying to make him lose his fucking mind. He tilts his head in interest when a man approaches you, grazes his hands over your hips like he means to start grinding against you. Eren can feel his own hands tightening around the bottle and the plastic cup in his hand, but he holds himself back; he’s got no claim on you, and if you’re willing to entertain the man (who, if you ask Eren, is way below your standards), who is Eren to stop you?

You surprise him in the best way: when the man touches you lightly, you whip around, brows furrowed and a little glitter in your eyes so mean that even Eren nearly flinches. He can’t read your lips in the low light, but he snorts to himself anyway as the man puts his hands up and backs away from you, eyes wide. As if nothing had happened, you spin back on your heel, facing a cackling Sasha with a shrug.

Eren feels a wide, proud smile blooming on his face. As much as he feels an unwarranted protectiveness towards you, he likes watching you get your teeth out and stand up for yourself. Before he can make his way back over to tease you, a voice from his left makes his blood run cold.

“Rennie?!”

Two thin arms are tossed around his neck before Eren can even respond, the familiar scent of vanilla and coconut enveloping him.

“Breeze?” Eren chokes out, too shocked to keep his composure. She pulls away from him and grins, a little diamond glittering from her right canine tooth.

“You didn’t text me back, you tease,” she swats at his chest, snags the vodka soda he’d bought for you right out of his hand, taking a sip. Eren takes the opportunity to swallow hard around the lump in his throat, one last tentative glance towards you before he turns his gaze back to Breeze.

She’s cut her hair, something short and choppy that swings around her ears, and fuck, she’s still just as pretty as he remembers, little freckles on her button nose visible in the darkness of the club.

“Didn’t think you wanted to see me,” Eren shrugs, forcing his face to remain schooled into one of cold apathy. She had left him, like he was nothing to her. He hates her, he realizes, god, he hates her so much it burns in his veins. Breeze cocks her head, frowning.

“Why would you think that?”

“You fucking left me, Breeze, don’t be stupid,” Eren makes a move to steal the drink back from her, but she holds it close enough to her chest that he’d have to practically grope her to take it, and his fingers recoil at the realization.

“Are you double-fisting, or did you buy this for someone special?” She teases, brushing right over Eren’s bristly demeanor. When he doesn’t answer, she raises her eyebrows. “It’s for someone. Well, point her out! Is she cute?”

Breeze turns on her heel, standing on her tiptoes to glance through the crowd. Before he can stop himself, Eren’s grabbing her upper arm, spinning her back to face him with anger blazing in his eyes. When he meets her gaze, her baby blues are alight with mischief, and he knows that no matter which direction he moves, he’s losing whatever little game she has him trapped in. That was the thing about Breeze; Eren was always losing her games.

“Fuck, just…just stop it, Breeze. What are you even doing here?”

“I’m back in town, didn’t you see my text?” Breeze shrugs innocently, sipping your drink.

“Okay, well, welcome back,” Eren deadpans, leaving her question hanging in the air between them. He turns back to the bar to order another cocktail for you, having given up hope of getting the first one back from Breeze, but she’s relentless, has always been that way. She slides up to the bar beside him, smiling demurely up at him.

“I missed you, you know.”

“Wouldn’t have guessed,” Eren scoffs, rolling his eyes. Breeze flinches, but Eren knows her better than that. It’s all an act, it always is.

“I never realized how much I hurt you,” her fingers grazing over his cheek nearly burn with how cold they are in contrast to the heavy, thick air around them, “‘m sorry, Rennie.”

“It’s fine.” Eren hates the way he twitches and nearly leans into her touch when she swipes her fingers over him. How many times has he thought about this, seeing her again after all these years? Everything he’s planned out, everything he’s ever wanted to say is lodged in his throat, a jumble of letters and words so squished out of order that they no longer hold meaning. He doesn’t love her, not anymore, but his body reacts before his brain can stop it, a conditioned response.

“Can we talk about it soon? Maybe over coffee?” Blue eyes blinking up at him earnestly.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Breeze,” Eren rolls his eyes, swallowing thick around the knot in his throat.

“There is,” she insists, “I brought this amazing espresso blend back with me from Florence, and–”

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone for tonight?” Eren can feel the exasperation in his tone, can feel the weight of his mistake weighing on his shoulders. It’s fine, he tells himself, he’ll make up some excuse and get out of it. A long conversation with Breeze about their breakup is the last thing he needs.

“Maybe,” Breeze tucks her lip in between her teeth, a little smile playing at the corner of her mouth, “unless you change your mind.”

“We can talk or whatever another time, but I’m going back to my friends, okay? Go find yours.”

“You’re my friend,” Breeze purrs, one hand stroking over Eren’s bicep, “and I haven’ seen you int–”

“Don’t push it,” Eren nearly growls, scowling down at her. He knows half of the hatred buzzing through his veins is reserved for himself, but he’ll unpack that at home with a blunt, not in the middle of the club with you waiting for him on the dance floor and Breeze staring up at him hungrily.

“Always wound so tight,” Breeze hums, reaching a hand up to squish his cheeks, “but fine. I’ll see you soon.”

She miraculously leaves him there with nothing but a wink, taking your vodka soda with her; Eren’s shoulders slump in relief. Knowing Breeze, it was a wonder she hadn’t tackled him right there. When he turns around for the second time, two drinks in hand, you’re already staring at him. Shit.

You don’t look mad– and why would you be? You’re friends, Eren reminds himself. There’s no reason for you to know who Breeze is; he’s never told you about her, and he never planned on doing so. Eren knows Historia, though, well enough to believe that she told you everything from the godforsaken moment he walked into your apartment that day. 

He doesn’t like that look you’ve got, though; again, not mad, but he can see the gears turning behind your eyes. Eren has to practically force himself to walk towards you. Your head’s cocked in confusion, something watery and hesitant glimmering in your eyes through the low lighting. If he didn’t know better, he’d say you almost look hurt, but that wouldn’t be fair, would it? You didn’t want him, you had made that abundantly clear.

“Sorry it took me a while. Long line.” Eren hands you your drink, nearly wincing at how naturally the clearly false statement rolls off his tongue.

“Mhm,” you nod, downing nearly half of your drink in one long slurp. Your movements aren’t fluid and dynamic anymore; you’re stiff as a board, bouncing back and forth on the balls of your feet along to the beat of the song. “I…I actually have to pee, do you mind holding this?”

“Now?” Eren blinks, confused. “I just got your drink.”

You offer him a tight smile. “I wanted to wait ‘til you were back, so you could watch my drink. And so you didn’t think I ran off on you or something.”

“Oh, yeah, go ahead.”

He watches you slink away into the crowd, watches the dozens of eyes follow you, surely wondering what happened to the little firecracker in the middle of the dance floor. Eren knows you get like this sometimes, suddenly pensive and nostalgic, knows that per your own admission, you like to handle it yourself. He hadn’t done this to you, had he?

A firm pinch to his cheek distracts him, pulls him down a foot below his normal standing height. Could everyone just stop pinching his fucking face? “Shit, ow!”

“Was that Breeze?” Historia yells directly into his ear. Eren, six-foot-something of hell on wheels, blushes furiously.

“Dude, was that fucking Breeze, or am I too fucked up?” Connie echoes Historia’s sentiment from over her shoulder, eyes comically wide. Armin’s peering around him, eyes flitting back and forth between Eren, Connie, and Historia as he tries to understand what’s happened.

“Who cares?” Eren snaps at Connie. Historia’s grip on his face loosens, releases entirely. If Eren didn’t like the look that you had given him, he hates the look Historia’s shooting at him right now. All daggers and disappointment. She turns on her heel without another word, making a beeline for the bathroom and dragging Sasha along behind her. Eren doesn’t miss Armin’s eyes either; stripping him to the bone without saying a word.

“Quit looking at me like that,” Eren scoffs, waves a hand in Armin’s direction.

“When did Breeze get back into town?” Armin shouts over the music.

“A few weeks ago,” Eren admits, avoiding Armin’s eyes and looking for a spot at the bar where he can escape the heavy gazes of his friends, run away to drown this conversation in a shot of whiskey.

“Did you–”

“I don’t know, man, you know how she is. She just showed up.” Eren knows he’s being unnecessarily gruff, but in his defense, the last hour or so has been a whirlwind of memory and emotion and lust that he doesn’t have the capacity to deal with.

Armin nods simply, takes a sip of his beer. Eren’s known Armin since they were kids, and he knows Armin can read him like a book. If he had a little less pride, Eren would pull Armin to the side and ask if he can make any sense of what’s going through Eren’s head right now because Eren sure as hell can’t. There’s you, with your skimpy dress and your flirty eyes, grinding on him like you’re going to take him home and fuck him stupid again, like you hadn’t demanded an honest-to-god friendship that Eren happens to very much enjoy. On the other hand, there’s Breeze, flighty and just as much of a ghost as she is a real person, popping back into his life and batting her blue eyes at him like she’d never left.

You’re his friend, and Breeze is his terrible ex. There shouldn’t be a choice here– there isn’t, it’s just the way things are, but Eren feels stuck at a crossroads for some reason.

He finally gets fed up with the music and the bumping of bodies around him and storms off to the bar again, biting back the urge to snap at Connie and Armin who he knows are hot on his heels. Eren’s just looked up from the shot of whiskey burning its way down his throat, acknowledging the dizziness that’s come with his drinks for the night, when he spots you.

You don’t look angry, that’s a small mercy you unwittingly grant him, but you’re cowering. Historia, even being shorter than you, is practically pinning you to the wall outside of the bathroom, shouting at you with her finger in your face. Sasha doesn’t look all too pleased either, arms crossed and a deep scowl written into her features. Eren gets a glimpse of your phone in Historia’s other hand that she’s waving around erratically, and wonders what the hell happens in women’s bathrooms. He’s not exactly sure what prompts it, but he checks his own phone. Nothing.

“Are they fighting?” Connie asks, nose scrunched as he peeks around Eren’s arm.

“Looks like it,” Armin nods, wincing as you try to make a grab for your phone from Historia, resulting in Sasha saving you at the last second from face-planting as Historia holds it out of your reach.

“Should we, like, do something?”

“Absolutely not,” Armin and Eren echo each other, looking at Connie as if he’d just suggested they all walk into oncoming traffic.

Eren watches as Historia grabs you by the wrist and drags you out of the bar, your feeble protests doing nothing to stop her insistent steps. Sasha follows both of you, gently pushing you along by the small of your back and shooting a regretful glance at Connie, mouthing a sorry as you all make your exit. It’s hardly been five minutes before Eren’s phone buzzes.

> had to leave. do you mind paying our tab if i venmo you? it’s under reiss.

Eren bites the inside of his cheek again, not worrying in the slightest about covering the tab, but more so the reason for your abrupt exit.

> yeah i got u everything ok?

> thanks a ton! see u next time.

It’s purposefully avoidant, especially coming from Historia, who never misses a chance to make fun of you good-naturedly. If you had been sick in the bathroom or far too drunk to stay, she would have come out and said it. Eren throws his card down, going to pay the hefty tab you and your friends racked up, but not daring to pay his own. After all of the shit that’s just gone down, he owes himself at least one more drink.

Once he’s signed, he pulls out his phone again, thumb hovering over your text thread, then Breeze’s, then yours again. Mindful of Armin’s prying eye over his shoulder, Eren sighs heftily and shuts his phone off, leaning in to order another shot. The following morning’s approaching quickly, whether he wants it to or not, and he’ll save his fucked-up emotions for the daylight.

[choccyhearts]

I've Found You // Eddie Munson x Succubus!Reader

Note: In case you didn't see my updates, I'm so sorry this fic was pushed back!! I first got sick and then found out the file deleted :( So, this was justtttt really annoying. But here it is ^_^ Eddie and his succubus gf meeting!! Also, I will slowly be posting chapter for this <3

CW: 18+!! Nightmare description (Eddie's), panic/fear, mentions of death/dying, crying, injury, fem/afab!reader, succubi!reader (lmk if i missed anything) ♡nothing sexual yet but succubi fics are no place for minors!!♡

Italics are Eddie's thoughts!!

Panting.

...

Chapter 1

...

All Eddie could hear was panting along with the thunderous boom of each beat of his heart. It was dark, all around him except a grinning moon silently taunting him. His feet pounded against the forest floor but it felt useless, he was still not far enough away.

He didn't know what he was running from. It seemed like he'd been running for a lifetime. Like all he'd ever known were the menacing trees that towered over him, the blackness of the night, and the fear pulsing through his body.

His lungs burned and his stomach ached. His toes throbbed as they bumped into various large sticks and tree roots. Just a little further, just a little further. Until what, he wasn't sure but he needed to take a break or he was going to drop dead, literally.

Taking a quick and sharp turn to the right, Eddie stumbled a bit as he tried to lose whatever was chasing him. He smacked his palm against trees as they whizzed by to help his balance. The bark scratched his skin and drew blood but Eddie didn't even notice. He was too focused on getting free.

Hoping his quick decision worked, Eddie turned his head only to be met with a horrific sight -- an animalistic creature running on all fours, any specific features lost to the night's darkness. But it's eyes, those he saw clearly, they locked on his for the split second he looked back. They were bright, not in an innocent or cheery way, but glowing. And they were a dark yellow, almost orange, color. Something about the way its pupils were blown wide made goosebumps rise on Eddie's skin.

Once sufficiently petrified, Eddie turned back around only to get his foot caught on one of those pesky tree roots. His fall is quick and unforgiving, knocking more air out of him and ending in a sickening snap! Eddie's heart sank as he realized what this little screw up meant.

His jaw shook and trembled as he shifted his body slowly to see the creature coming toward him much too fast for him to even think of moving. Especially with his now broken ankle. Instead, his eyes flowed over with tears as loud screams ripped their way past his lips.

"Eddie!"

As the creature sniffed him, Eddie stared straight ahead, still sobbing but quieter. Maybe if he stayed quiet, it'd deem him as less of a threat, and he could live. He wasn't ready to die. He had a lot left he wanted to do. And he wanted to tell his loved ones goodbye. And he wanted to know how he got here.

"Eddie!"

The creature's breath was hot as it hit Eddie's neck. He could feel droplets of drool drip onto his hand, letting him know it was hungry, and the only thing on the menu was the poor man.

"Please don't... don't eat me. I... I need to go home, I need to see my uncle," Eddie's voice cracked as he tried to speak above a whisper. The creature brushed its face into his hair as he spoke. A chill went up his spine, but Eddie tried to ignore his instinct to run and stay put to try to diffuse the situation.

"Please let me live..."

The creature huffed sharply and nudged its face deeper against Eddie's head. Soft growls escaped the monster's lips as Eddie's breathing picked up. Was there any escaping this?

Bones cracked as the creature moved closer to his face. Eddie sputtered, saliva leaving his mouth as he choked on his own breathing, terrified to move a muscle. A hot, wet tongue glides up his cheek, its breath reeking of death. Eddie wasn't sure if he was going to die from a heart attack or the teeth of this thing.

After the creature's tongue lifted from his flesh, it hovered, allowing its saliva to continue to drip on to him. It mixes with his tears as it slides down his face and to his neck.

"I've... found... you..." the creature croaked out. Its voice was gruff and scratchy.

Eddie couldn't form a coherent thought except for one thing; he was going to die. Actually, die.

"Eddie!"

Eddie shut his eyes, just wanting it all to be over. He whimpered as he was forced to listen to the creature crack its jaw to unhinge it.

And as the meek, cowering man sat paralyzed below to large, cold-blooded monster above him, he-

"EDDIE!"

"CHRIST!"

Eddie's heart rate spiked as his body physically jolted awake, his eyes snapping open and recognizing the sheets on his bed hazily. His brain worked quickly, trying to understand what just happened. His arms ached as someone tightened their grip on them.

He blinked a few times before lifting his head to see his uncle kneeling in front of him, his hands on his arms.

"You alright, son? Heard ya from out on the couch."

Eddie groaned from deep in his throat before responding, "Yeah, I'm alright. I had another bad dream, s'all."

"Some dream," his uncle scoffed, standing up.

"Sorry for making you come in," the man admits sheepishly.

"Was just worried about ya. Besides, it's after noon. You should be up anyway," his uncle teased.

Eddie grumbled and rolled back over, leaving his uncle to shake his head and leave the room.

Yeah, some dream.

♡

It was just after dusk when Eddie's cigarette died. He had been out at the picnic table in the trailer park for about an hour, chain smoking cigarettes and writing in his notebook. He scribbled down various things; campaign ideas for his DnD club, song lyric ideas, random thoughts from his head, and lots of doodles.

It was a cold, crisp October Sunday, and the weather was just right for Eddie. He loved it when it was chilly enough for his leather jacket, but not cold enough he'd to bundle up or something, he despised winter.

As Eddie stubbed out the cigarette, a rustling of leaves and snap of a twig alerted him to his left. His shoulders bounced as he jumped, nerves completely on edge. His eyes moved first, slowly scanning over his surroundings until they physically couldn't look left anymore. Then, he craned his head, his neck softly clicking.

His blood slowly decreased in temperature despite his efforts to tell himself it was just a deer -- a rabid raccoon at the worst. But his gut, twisted and clenched in fear, told him to stop kidding himself. The rustling continued, getting louder and closer. As he stilled like a statue and gawked at the emptiness amongst the trees in front of him, he anticipated... something. He didn't know what, but something was going to come out.

But it didn't.

The trees rustled for a minute more before stopping. His eyebrows scrunched as he blinked rapidly, relieving his eyes of the painful stinging that began setting in. He climbed off the bench he was on and stumbled backwards toward the direction of his trailer. His eyes darted around frantically as his body began to shake just a little bit under his big leather jacket.

"Christ..." Eddie muttered. Just an animal, he thought, just nothing. Get inside.

He tightened his grip on his notebook, bending and warping the pages and dampening them with his sweaty palms. He inhaled deeply before dashing suddenly, his sight trained on his front door. All he can do is run and hope he makes it in time.

But his hope runs out just as fast as it bloomed in his heart. Trying to outrun the creature, he lost his footing. A loud snap echoed around him, and next thing, Eddie was on the ground. He groaned and sucked his teeth, letting out a hiss. Not the first time he'd taken a bad spill but still didn't feel good.

Eddie panted as he lay on his stomach for a second in shock. Behind him, the rustling turns into sprinting. Loud and fast sprinting. His knuckles turn a bright white as he attempts to crawl himself to safety using his hands and uninjured leg.

Eddie shut his eyes, not wanting to see what's going to rip him to shreds. What's the point? It's not gonna save him.

The sprinting stops right next to his body but continues to try to get away. For the first time, he finds himself wishing one of his nosy neighbors was out for a smoke. But it's unlikely they'd even help him. That's why he hasn't screamed for help. If they wanted to help him, they would've. But they won't because whatever's attacking the town's cult leader is probably deserved.

The creature stalks behind Eddie, mimicking his snail-like pace. Taunting me, he thinks. He can hear its breathing, and it sends a shiver down his spine.

Growing tired, Eddie slowly stops his escape attempt. A foot presses on his back, making him still. Eddie's breath hitches as his mind goes blank. He's stuck. He was going to die.

As he cleanched his eyes tightly, Eddie felt his skin heat up and go ice cold in waves, fear filling his whole body until he couldn't feel anything else at all.

"Please...I don't wanna die..." He's unsure if words will work, but if the thing above him hasn't killed him just yet, maybe he can try bargaining with it.

The foot is lifted off of him only to be placed next to his side, the other planted on his other side. The creature lowers itself onto his back gently. Eddie lets out a gasp and wonders if that's good or bad. Before he can come to a conclusion, the creature answers for him.

"Die...?" Its voice is...soft. It's sweet, even. "Do you think I'd do that?"

Eddie stared forward as his brow bone furrows.

"Isn't that why you attacked me?"

"Attacked you!? No! I wasn't attacking you!" The creature leaned forward and craned itself over Eddie's body until it could drop its face down in front of his, looking at him upside down. "I wanted to say hi."

His eyes slowly open and reveal the surprising sight to him. Directly in front of his face was a beautiful woman, the most beautiful he'd ever seen. Her hair was shiny but wild and draped over the two of the like a shield or curtain. Her lips were curled upward into a cheeky smile, one canine peeking out. Her skin was vibrant and full of life. And those gorgeous eyes hypnotized him instantly as they darted around to drink in Eddie's features, too.

She slowly climbed off his back, not breaking eye contact. Despite the strain that had to have put on her neck, she doesn't show any distress on her face. Once off of him, she drops onto her knees on the ground in front of his face. She tells him her name, and he repeats it in a whisper.

"I'm Eddie." And if the universe didn't hate him enough, his voice cracked as he spoke.

"Nice to meet you, Eddie."

Clearing his throat, Eddie continued, "Can I ask what you were doing in the woods, bein' all...creepy and scaring the piss outta me?"

He couldn't remember the pain in his ankle, too busy reeling from the whiplash of the events playing out before him.

"I was looking for you," she said in a quiet voice.

"Looking for me?" Eddie's heart began to pick up again. The girl nodded her head as she moved forward. She set her left hand against his cheek and stroked the flesh.

"I've found you..."

Eddie's breath gets caught in his throat.

"Wh-what, what did you say?"

The girl brings her other hand to his face, tangling her fingers in rogue strands of his hair. She brings her head down to his, and his forehead is pressed against hers. She uses her thumbs to wipe his drying tears. Eddie's eyes fall closed without him realizing, his heart rate finally slowing.

"I've found you...," she repeats.

♡

The first thing Eddie heard was the ticking of a clock. It was a deep ticking, the noise bouncing off the walls due to the emptiness of the room. That was how Eddie knew he wasn't home because he didn't have a clock like that in his room because he didn't like to hear the ticking. Made him feel like it was counting down to his death.

His eyes slowly peeled open, the crusties perched in the corners of his eyes cracking and disintegrating. He turned his neck to the side and saw his uncle slouched in a rather uncomfortable looking chair asleep. He looked down, and while he already assumed he was in a hospital, he wasn't sure why.

He takes in the sight his left ankle in a cast. He groans and drops his head back. Great, just another thing he needs, he thinks. As his eyes stare at the popcorn ceiling above him his brain begins to play the previous events.

The rustling, the chase, his ankle, the girl. The girl. Who was she?

When his uncle finally woke up, he gave Eddie a hug before smacking him softly upside the head. He listened to his uncle chew him out for "horsing around". Eddie apologized, genuinely sorry for scaring him but he was confused.

"Well, I came home and found you by that picnic table with your skateboard out. Told ya to quit bein' so reckless. I thought you were dead but you were just out cold."

Eddie scrunched his nose. His skateboard was nowhere near him.

"What about the girl?"

"Girl? Aw, Eddie. Don't tell me you got yourself into all this for a girl?"

He doesn't remember passing out at all but he knows whoever that girl was had something to do with it.

"Uh...yes, sir. I'm sorry, I...completely forgot. I was fooling around, trying to do a trick on the the bench and I guess I slipped. I saw a cute girl, thought there'd be no harm but, well things just can't go well for Eddie Munson." As much as he hated lying to his uncle, he'd done it enough to get away with it easily.

"Well, get some more rest. Doctor should be discharging you soon."

Eddie laid back, replaying that girl's face. She's found him.

♡

[ravenromanova]

Gotta be good enough

Pairings: Female oc x red room Female oc x Bucky barnes

Warnings: Slight abuse, torture, blood, violence, abuse from men, winter solider bucky, angst no happiness really in this chapter (it will get less angst eventually just bare with me)

word count: 1.9k This one is a little bit longer :)

Lilith's p.o.v *6 years later 1986*

I can hardly open my eyes and wake up before i hear my door being slammed open. I jump up and squint as i’m met with a blinding light. As my eyes adjust i see Dreykov standing at the end of my bed with a smile and a man standing by the door. I sit up on my mattress and rub my eyes as i wait for Dreykov to speak first.

He walks over to the side of my bed and sits next to me and i straighten up. “Good morning butterfly” Dreykov finally speaks and i can smell the vodka on his breath when he does. “I have some news for you my dear.” He says snapping his fingers and the man walks over and hands in a small black case. Dreykov takes the black case from him and opens it. And when he does i see a small blueish glow emit from it and i see a small vile.

He pulls out the vile and holds it up with a sickening grin. “Do you know what this is my dear?” Dreykov asks me and i shake my head ‘no’. He clears this throat and takes my hand and stands us up.

“This my dear butterfly is the serum” He smiles and my heartbeat quickens and my palms get sweaty. What he’s holding in his hand is the super solider serum.. The thing he told me would make me invincible. But i can’t move past the pit in my stomach forming as he speaks. Something just feels wrong.

”i- uh are you sure i’m ready?” I question as i stare down at my feet and play with the long sleeves of my shirt. Dreykov tilts my head back so i look have to look at him. His grip is tight on my chin and i try not to wince in pain.

“I know what you’re doing lilith… You want me to say you aren’t ready so you don’t have to take it. But my darling butterfly you are ready. And in a weeks time you will be given the serum even if you dont want it.” He says in a calm yet disturbing tone and releases my chin. I blink back tears when his back is towards me for a moment.

“Yes sir, Sorry sir” Is all i manage to say in response, Partially because i’m stunned and another part because i’m scared of what he’ll do if i say no.

”Very good butterfly. For this next week you shall rest. No training, No missions, No walking around the building. You are to stay in this room unless it is for food. You need rest before the serum since it will be a very intense process. Do you understand?” He asks me as he turns to face me again. It takes me a minute to process his words before i can give him a response.

“Yes sir i understand.” Dreykov smiles at my response before he pats my head and he and Rumlow leave my room leaving me alone.

Once i’m alone again i shuffle my way to my bed and curl up in a ball under the covers. My thoughts run wild ‘what if it doesn’t work and i die?’ ‘will it hurt?’ ‘am i gonna look different?’ The amount of things running through my head is too much to handle.

I think back to a conversation about a man from another organization. I remember hearing guards talk about him and they said how when he was given the serum that he completely changed. They said that he was more violent then ever, He was aggressive towards the guards, That they have to wipe his memory… will that happen to me?

I try to shake those thoughts out of my head and try to get at least some sleep tonight. When i fall asleep my mind is plagued with nightmares like right away. I dream of my childhood, being ripped away from my parents, i dream of the pain i felt when they said i was being taken away. I toss and turn in my sleep as i try not to let the nightmares get the best of me. Eventually i fall asleep and find comfort in the nightmares.

A week goes by and i do exactly what Dreykov tells me what do to. I stay in my room and barely leave my bed unless it’s to have dinner with the other widows. After a painful week of not being able to do anything today is the day i’m actually gonna be able to leave the confines of my room. Granted it’s because i’m getting injected with random chemicals but hey it’s something.

When i wake up i groan and rub my eyes before sitting up. I sit in my bed for a few minutes and try to compose myself before Dreykov comes in. I take deep breaths and try to ground myself trying to stop the pit forming in my stomach. Something stills feels wrong and i cant figure it out.

I dont even have time to figure out what’s wrong before Dreykov and six other guards come into my room. Jumping to my feet i walk over to him and his guards.

“Good morning butterfly… Are you ready?” He asks with a smug grin on his face knowing that even if im not i wont say anything.

“Yes sir” I respond flatly trying to conceal all my emotions. He smiles and leads me out the room into the dimly lit grey hallway. All the guards surround me as we walk and my nerves just get worse. We walk for a few minutes before we get to one of their many labs.

Dreykov enters the room first and then i enter next. When i enter the stark white room i look around and see it looks like a regular doctors office. I’m pushed onto a hospital bed and strapped down. I don’t dare to fight as i know what happens if i do. A doctor approaches me and sticks a needle in my neck and the world goes black.

However many hours later i wake up back in my bed and for a split second i think it was all a dream. That is until i notice my feet hanging off my twin bed which never happens. I get up and go look in my dingy mirror. The gasp that comes out of my mouth could only be classified as horrified.

I stare at myself in the mirror taking in my new appearance. I’m atleast six inches taller, My arms and legs are bulkier, And my stomach is toned, The acne marks on my face is gone, My eyes shine brighter, Shit even my teeth are whiter than before.

All of this overwhelms me so much so that i’m pretty sure i passed out and everything goes dark again.

---------time skip Lilith is now 18 1989-----------

The next time i wake up i’m told that i’ve been asleep for three years and now they are finally ready for me. I have no clue what’s going on as i try to adjust to being awake after so long. My muscles ache as i’m lead into what looks like a dance class room. When i walk in i see a man with a sliver arm and a mask standing in the corner.

“Ah my little butterfly is finally awake. I’m so excited for you to meet The winter solider, come solider.” Dreykov says as he waits for the man in the mask to stand next to him. “This my dear is HYDRA’s asset. He shall train you to become just like him, You and him both have the serum and HYDRA so kindly agreed to pair up with me and allow me to use the asset as i please as long as i let them use you as well.” He says with a shit eating grin on his face. My eyes wonder over to the solider and i can see in his eyes he’s in pain. I just nod at Dreykov’s statement.

“You two will start training in the morning and when you are needed you will be paired together. And when you are not needed you will be put back into cryostasis.” Dreykov states then tells the guards to prep and wipe me… Whatever that means.

I unfortunately found out what that meant when i no longer remembered my name.

—two week time skip—

Gotta be good enough. Gotta be good enough!! GOTTA BE GOOD ENOUGH!!  thats all that goes through my head as i spar with The Solider. He keeps throwing punch after punch and looks impressed every time i block them. Time after time he knocks me on my ass without fail. I get back up and decide to try again. Finally i get one really good move in and kick in his knee and kick his feet out from under him as he hits the floor hard.

"you gotta give me points on that one huh?" i say extremely cocky as he tries to get up without groaning in pain. I shoot him a cocky little smile as he finally gets to his feet.

"you got one good move in when i wasn't paying attention anyone could've done it." He shrugs as he gets back in his fighting stance. Truthfully i really enjoy sparring with the solider he's the only one who understands the annoyances of the serum, he understands the nightmares, he understands what it feels like to miss the life you once had, he understands me... But i'm soon snapped out of my thoughts as my head hits the ground. I look up to see the solider looking very smug as he raises his eyebrows in amusement.  My eyes involuntarily roll as he hands me his hand to help me up

"you only got that move in because i wasn't paying attention solider." i repeat his words to him and he just nods his head as he helps me stand.

"alright then... kick my ass prove to me you're the strongest there is. let's go Lilith." Once he says that i swing myself around his torso and climb on his shoulders while wrapping my legs around his neck (a move i call the widow) i squeeze my legs around his neck til he taps my leg.

"that one i'll give you points for. i think we are done for today though little one. go get cleaned up and i'll see you later okay?" The solider says handing me a towel to wipe the sweat off my face. I blush at his words and take the towel. The solider packs up his stuff as i cool down which means he’s leaving for a mission.

“When do you leave?” The words come out softer than i meant. He just softly smiles at me. “Whenever they come to get me. But i dont know when I’ll be back. They said they need us to be back in cryo again soon.” He responds barely above a whisper. I can see in his eyes that he doesn’t want to do this anymore. I solemnly nod my head and give him a quick hug before anyone walks in.

The door is opened no more than thirty seconds later. A bunch of HYDRA agents walk in and they take the solider without any words. He looks back at me mouthing ‘i’ll be back’ and then the door shuts leaving me alone. The second that door shuts i have a very strong feeling i wont be seeing him again for a while.

~

no one has permission to copy or translate or post my work on other sites

Ahhh! here is the second chapter! i made this a little longer so we have more of a backstory. The upcoming chapters are going to be set in present time :) I hope you guys are enjoying it so far! please let me know what yall think! dont forget to like and reblog 🖤❤️ I love yall and ill see you in the next chapter.

[procuder]

I don't get it why did Hellkaros want Kim Suho so much what more can he do for him?

Welcome to procuder's glue archive. Due to our lack of information, almost everything here comes from my own perspective. There will be slight spoilers. (railroad arc.)

If you asked why Hellkaros wanted Kim Suho that much, we have to go back and look at why Hellkaros became interested in Lloyd. (Kim Suho.)

For me, it started with Lloyd and Javier succeeding in killing the Hell Knight, Giolexius. That was a big achievement and one of hell's losses in manpower. Hellkaros became more interested in this man. At first, he was just interested in Lloyd's singing.

They meet for the first time in Lloyd's dream after Hellkaros takes up some of his precious free time and his busy work schedule to meet up with Lloyd. (definitely not gay sir I got you) They have some conversation. Lloyd says what he did was just self-defense and Hellkaros was also interested in using Lloyd's cries as a torture device in Purgatory lmao. At first, Lloyd thought it was just a weird dream, so he didn't pay any attention to it.

Of course, he later realized that it wasn't just a dream.

After they meet again in hell. Lloyd came to see him while Hellkaros was busy. Lloyd made a proposal that if Hellkaros listened to him, he would help Hellkaros achieve his goal, get off work. And that was the beginning of the whole story.

And after talking about the construction of the railway and various details for 20 minutes (that the Webcomic shortened it to just half a chapter), Hellkaros came to several conclusions from this conversation.

He is a smart guy who can quickly connect the dots. After living only work for 670,000 years without a break, he constantly worried and lived in hopelessness that one day he would have the same fate as the previous Hell King. That desperation disappeared after considering the benefits he would receive after accepting Lloyd's proposal. It's pretty simple, right? It's similar to how it's easy for people to fall in love with someone when they're in some difficult situations. To me, Hellkaros is like that (I mean it's similar...)

He will be able to live a life he has never been before in 670,000 years. He will be able to rest. He would no longer have to help those foolish Satans and work himself into pieces that he didn't have to do. He would be able to quit these sickening works that couldn't even be shared with the other Satans under his command at the castle. He would no longer end up like the old Hell King, and he would no longer have to worry about anything. These were all the enormous benefits he would receive if he accepted Lloyd's offer. Of course, with just a short conversation, Hellkaros would even want Lloyd to take his place. It didn't mean that Hellkaros wanted Lloyd to take over as Hell King. He didn't hate being the Hell King. It could be said that he preferred to do his own routine and let Lloyd do all of his work. It's like being a secretary.

You can read this post for more glue of course :)

Yes, if he had this man to work for him. He will definitely receive more benefits.

So yeah. When people finally know the taste of freedom, we want to taste it more, right? I have to say that at first, he was just going to wait for Lloyd to die and come to Hell in order to work with him. But because Kim Suho is a good person, it was proof that Kim Suho's bad krama would be gone and not enough for Hellkaros to keep this man by his side. (Unbeknownst to him, if he were a little more patient, he might be able to negotiate with Lloyd himself. I mean, yeah, the restoration force of destiny stuff if you see my vision.)

He often imagined what he would do after he could get off work: soak in a lava tub, drink his favorite beverage, watch a series, read a novel, tell, legend. His desires were no different from those of a hard-working office worker. (I think it's very clear that he is presented in a way that many office workers, including me, could relate to him. I mean, his throne is even an office chair lol) (AND THE WEBCOMIC DECIDED TO CUT HIS IMAGINATION OFF I'M COMPLETELY FINE OKAY??)

That's why he had to do something to get Kim Suho to be by his side. I think you'll understand because, God, imagine working non-stop for 670,000 years. If I had to be gay and bring the person I really wanted by my side to be by my side, I would do that also /j

[the-present-is-a-gift-au]

Chapter 35: In Which Twig Falls Apart

Of course she crossed paths with Darkrai while out on her walk. He wasn't just some hazy presence in the shadows of the forest, either— he was visible as any tree or fern on the trail, hands clasped and subtly wringing ever so slightly as he stood off to the side of the path. He perked up when he saw her, and she immediately turned on her heel and made for home. 

“Twig, if I may have a word—” he began. 

“Nope. Not in the mood to deal with you right now, sorry man.” 

“You’ve been worrying me. I am not fool enough to turn a blind eye to how you carry yourself or how you behave when faced with danger. Will you not answer me and say if you are well? Truly?”

Twig stopped dead in her tracks as she registered just what he'd said. “Did you tell Kip to worry about me wanting to off myself?”

Silence. 

“Great. Great! Wonderful. I can't face him knowing that. Awesome.” She gritted her teeth and took in a long, slow breath. “Why'd you even care? Isn't that kind of the whole point, at least with your plan to rule a world of darkness or whatever? You wouldn't have to lift a finger if I did the deed myself, right—”

“My plans have changed significantly,” he said abruptly, cutting her off. “I find little appeal in ruling much of anything nowadays. The thought of you doing yourself harm is— it's— I take no pleasure in it. It's sickening to think of.”

That gave her pause. Maybe what Celebi said was true, then, if Darkrai wasn't plotting to take over the world again. She changed his mind. But no sooner had those four words entered her thoughts than a bitter sneer found its way onto her face. “I'm pretty sure it's not sickening to think about the world being a better place without me, but okay,” she grumbled. 

Darkrai's gaze snapped to her. “Why do you find that so hard to believe?”

She quirked a brow, looking him up and down. 

“I'm aware that I— I meant with your kinsfolk. I've witnessed your refusal to believe they carry affection for you like they would any other. You've convinced yourself that they're better off without you— I know it too well from what I've seen of your nightmares. Why?”

She squared her shoulders and shoved past him, calling over her shoulder as she turned back home on the path. “Because they are better off without me.”

“They aren't. Grovyle fears your death more than his own.”

She ignored the sting of tears in her eyes. “That's literally just Grovyle. He's like that with everybody. Even the mailman.”

“Celebi sees you as a family member worthy of any sacrifice necessary.”

“Celebi was willing to die to bring back a sunrise she wouldn't get to see. She's sacrificed it all already. It doesn't mean anything to give it up twice.”

“Dusknoir sees you as his own.”

“Dusknoir is everyone's weird wannabe-dad. I'm not special that way.”

“Kip is clearly—”

At the mention of her partner's name, Twig rounded on him. “Don't you dare say anything to me about how Kip is glad to be my friend, or he couldn't bear to live without me, or whatever garbage you're going to pull out next. I know that. I know he was shaking in his boots at every moment when we met. I know I changed that for him. But I also dragged him into my mess with— with almost getting him killed by Grovyle or Dusknoir or Dialga, and lying to him about me being erased from time because I didn't want to see him be sad about it, and dragging him around time and space with me until he wasn't able to evolve for years. Kip might need me, but he doesn't deserve me. He doesn't deserve the world's most lousy excuse of a person as a partner. He doesn't deserve someone who didn't want him to leave on his dream expedition for a couple years because she was scared of how she'd handle living on her own. He doesn't deserve—” Her voice broke, and she struggled to find the words she hated most to say. 

Darkrai watched her pityingly. Something in her ate that up— the fact she was being seen, and seen as something worthy of sympathy even in all of her wretchedness— and something else in her hated the fact that she was stirring up any sense of sadness in someone. That hatred fought hard to come out on top, but the hungry, sorrowful thing inside her lurked close to the surface. 

“Kip doesn't deserve someone who's as messed up as I am dragging him down,” she finally said. 

“I believe he'd beg to differ.” Darkrai’s wide-eyed, worried stare narrowed. “You seem to think very little of the people you call your closest allies, if you believe they bear no affection for you or act in ill-judgment if they do.”

Twig looked away, tears pricking at her eyes. “Shut up.” 

“Do you truly hold so little faith in their words when they say they wish you well?”

“I said, shut up—”

“Why do you act as though they hate you?” 

“Because they should!” Twig shouted. Darkrai flinched back at the ferocity in her words, and something about that made a shard of hurt lodged deep inside her stir with the urge to give chase. “Because I'm the worst thing that's ever happened to any of them! If it weren't for me, they'd be living happily and without a single worry, but they're not! Because of me! Because I'm stupid and selfish and can't get it through my thick skull that they're better off without me, so I hang around and hurt everyone even more than I did the last time I opened my mouth!” She threw her arms wide in a furious motion. “But apparently they're all too stupid to hate me themselves, so I'm the one who needs to hate myself enough that I stay in line and don't be such a useless burden that they realize I'm not worth keeping around!” 

Silence. 

Twig ground her teeth, torn between preening at the sorrowful look Darkrai was giving her or throttling him for giving her it in the first place. She returned her arms to her sides, balling her hands into fists, and turned to leave when a new voice caught her attention. 

“Do you really think that?” 

Twig looked up. 

Oh. There was Dusknoir, Celebi, Grovyle, and Kip— all standing just a ways off from her on the path. Apparently they came to check on her together. Apparently they overheard her spitting those awful things and spilling her guts, and now Grovyle wanted to know if it was the truth. 

She pursed her lips, considering her answer. “It’s true, isn’t it? I’m not… I’m not worth keeping around. I’m not…” Her face screwed up as she began to cry, unable to hold back her tears. “I’m not someone worth caring about, and it’s dumb to think that, but I can’t stop, and… I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m being annoying, I’ll stop, just give me a minute—“

Grovyle stepped forward once, twice— put out his hand and then pulled it back, unsure of how to help despite feeling pulled to it. 

“How can I help?” He asked. 

Twig felt something raw and bloody in her gut itself to get the words out of her mouth. “… Could I have a hug?” 

He opened his arms. Twig met him halfway as he shakily stepped toward her, and she wrapped her arms around him in a numb sort of echo of what a hug should be. His hand trembled as he rubbed small circles between her shoulder blades, then tucked her head under his chin and pulled her closer. 

For the first time since that awful day her past crawled out of its grave and back into her head, another memory returned to Twig. This one was new, foreign in its familiarity and how well it felt like it fit in an empty place in her chest.

(She was scared of the sableye running outside of their hiding spot in search of the trio of fugitives, unable to sleep for her terror at the thought of being discovered, and Grovyle held her like he was now. Twig had felt safe back then. Nothing scary could get her. Not while Grovyle was around. She fell asleep certain everything would be okay as long as they were together.)

Twig wept, then cried, then bawled. There were no words for her to say. What was there to be said? Right now, she had Grovyle to hold her as she wailed and sobbed like a little kid, and Kip rushing over to join the embrace. She didn't care if people were looking at her. She didn't care that Darkrai had vanished soon after everyone arrived and she didn't know where he disappeared to. Nothing mattered right now except for that raw, bloody, hurting thing inside her being washed clean by the tears she shed in her friends’ arms. 

Maybe she wasn't a burden. It didn't seem like you'd hold a burden like she was being held right now. It hurt to think about for too long— that raw thing inside her still sensitive and painful— but maybe she could sometime later. 

Much later. 

She still had so many more tears to shed, and it didn't seem like Grovyle or Kip were letting go of her any time soon.

[perledepluie]

When I was putting away some documents related to Tales from Etria, I found something interesting. When I wrote the first "act" of the fic (the first 12 chapters that take place in the Emerald Grove), I discarded some parts for different reasons - mainly because of the inconsistencies with the plot., but not always.

So, when I was classifying those texts that didn't make it in the final version of the fic, I found a scene in which Seth had a rather... unusual encounter. I discarded this scene from the final text for plot reasons, but I thought it would be nice to show it to you anyways :P

Warning : there are spoilers for the main fic (the first 12 chapters, I think, even if this scene was supposed to be part of the sixth or seventh chapter, I guess? I can't remember where it was exactly supposed to be, though...) and for The Flight of the Black Eagles. So, if you didn't read all of that before coming here, do it already, it will prevent you from being spoiled. With that being said... I hope you'll enjoy this little piece!

— — — — —

The Golden Deer Pub was always crowded, whether it was early enough that the sun hadn't yet risen, or late enough to see the stars shining. There were rarely any quiet moments, but nobody ever dared to bother Seth when he was sitting on a stool in front of the bar, sipping his usual beer. Or those who did were drunk. Or crazy. Or sometimes both. Or else...

"I hope you didn't forget what you had to do."

He decidedly could never get a moment to himself in this town-

"What a nice surprise... I didn't know you often hung out here, Azura."

"Don't waste time with your bullshit. You know what'll happen if you don't."

"Don't I have the right to check up on you without you wanting to shove a dagger in my stomach?"

"Be careful with what you're insinuating."

Azura was just a viper, anyway. It was almost sickening for Seth to think that she was the last person in his family still alive, that she was his sister, the person he trusted most in his old guild... She was no better than the gang of scum she worked for, after all. And now, the alchemist told himself that he would have preferred to die with the others that day.

"Why don't you do the dirty work yourselves, as usual? Like the bastards you are?"

"It would be a shame if the Radha knew certain things, don't you think? You value your freedom far too much to let an unfortunate accident happen."

"Excuse me, I'd forgotten that in addition to being bastards, you're also masters in the art of blackmail... You really are the worst of all the bastards in your shitty group, you know that?"

"What you have to do isn't that complicated, though... You just have to obey us... and I'll keep my mouth shut."

"I'm sure they still have places on the streets at night for people like you. You'd get rich quick."

Azura ignored the provocation, and took a sip of her own drink - red wine, as usual. Seth had never understood how others could drink such a beverage without spitting it out or being seized by a searing urge to vomit right after the first sip, and he wasn't about to change his mind. It was like drinking blood, for him, the blood of those betrayed. A perfect drink for his treacherous sister, in this case. He was convinced that only vipers drank such beverages anyway, and Azura was no exception.

"You have one moon, not one more day. If you haven't brought us his head by then..."

"No need to go any further, you'll tell the rest some other time. Now, if you don't mind..."

Seth had finished his beer, so he left a few entals on the bar as payment, stood up, and left without so much as a last glance at his interlocutor. It wasn't as if she deserved it, anyway...

Those bastards had already killed his former companions, and if he didn't agree to bring them the medic's head, his life in Etria would be reduced to languishing behind bars for a crime he hadn't committed. Why did they want Vincent's head again? Seth couldn't remember if it was the consequences of a family quarrel, or a silly story of revenge. He didn't care either way, since he had no intention of doing what they wanted with him. But it was going to take a miracle to get him out of this situation, a huge miracle. He only had one moon left to get out of this giant mess, after all.

— — — — —

So yeah, there was a time when Azura was working for the Blood Crow's Feathers, and she was the only one in the Black Eagles Guild to do so, too. I had a totally different idea for Seth's backstory at the time. He was supposed to be caught in bad trouble with his first guild, and the first one betraying him would be Azura (and not Azel like in the final story). Azel was still supposed to be with the sect too, but his motivations wouldn't make sense if Azura was in the sect instead of the other three, so I ultimalty changed that too. And for the things about Vincent, it wasn't making any sense too (he has family problems too, but not related to the Blood Crow's Feathers), so it was also changed for the final story.

And that's it for today! See y'all for the next chapter, as usual!

[baileyjane3769]

Original Copy is on Quotev, for a better viewing experience and chapter by chapter reading head on over to my Quotev page @BobbyWolf3769 or click the link here

***

When a game is over and all hidden things have been found, what is there left to do? Move on. That's what you would have liked to have done after finishing the disappointing secret ending of a popular otome game. But when the story is over, and all things were said and done, you find yourself trapped in that very game. Faced with the task to keep everyone alive, can you make it to the end without falling in love?

Long read ahead

Chapter Nine

Mid-Morning Crisis

That night was probably the best sleep you’ve had all week.

It was around eleven p.m. when you finally woke up, you guess your mother decided to let you sleep in after all that you went through yesterday. Sitting up in bed, you stretched your arms wide over your head, humming in satisfaction, you actually felt good today, despite how sore your face and hand felt. You had a feeling today was going to be a great day. While yesterday didn’t pan out the way you expected, seeing as you found yourself back in the hospital, you still accomplished your main adjective and saved Makino. You did end up more battered and bruised than you expected, you were just glad to get past that chapter of your life, but now comes the more tricky part. 

With the first week technically over, the actual plot of the game starts next week, and with it comes many uncertainties. Even though Akui hasn’t gotten his first taste of murder there is still the possibility he could end up killing someone anyways, he is at his breaking point after all. He’s been at his breaking point ever since Yuki first left him, and when she came back he became obsessed with the idea of keeping her to himself. Makino’s death might have been an accident, sure, but so was Suzuki’s. It was Suzuki’s death that really gave Akui a taste for blood, and he couldn’t escape the sickening sweet feeling he had after killing to ‘protect’ his love. Actively killing anyone he saw as a threat to him and Yuki. There was no doubt that, if you left him alone, Akui Minato would eventually kill someone.

With your mood temporarily soured, you left your bed and made your way to your desk. On it was pretty much the same contents as before: school papers, a cup full of pens and pencils, sticky pads, and your calendar. Nothing has changed on it, the date that every character died on is still circled in red. ‘So nothing changed even though I prevented Makino’s murder,’ you think to yourself, picking up the calendar. ‘Does that mean I have to stop each of them? Wait, but some of the characters can only be killed in certain routes. Even if this world followed the plot of the route with the most deaths, only five dates should be marked. Hold on, let me…’ Flipping through the calendar, you count every date that was ominously circled and came to the conclusion that ten dates were circled. Ten dates for ten different people’s deaths. Seven rivals, three love interests.

‘The only ending where everyone dies is the secret ending, but I stopped Makino’s death. There should be no investigation, no snooping around, no reason for Yuki to–’ your train of thought was cut off by your own realization. ‘Yuki has already met two out of the three love interests that I know of. Already, they have gained an interest in her, and, because I was so distracted with dumb Makino, I completely forgot that Suzuki was slowly growing attracted to Yuki this week. Have those two even properly met yet? And what about the other boys who fall for Yuki? Sure, I can prevent the bullies from harassing her so that they don’t die, but can I really keep the love interests from falling for her? 

Akui is so sick in the head that I doubt it would take much for him to want to kill someone. At this point, what is the use of knowing the plot if most of it revolved around Yuki trying to solve a string of murders. Events, the investigation, and opportunities to gain favor with the love interest were all factors that prevented Akui from killing all willy-nilly, a fact I picked up in the secret ending, but now that I prevented the original plot, what’s going to stop Akui from killing someone one day out of jealousy. Saving Makino meant nothing, and I’m still gonna have to prevent so many more murderers, but look at how I turned out after just the prologue! I have been hospitalized twice already, am I really gonna have to keep this up for nine more people?’

As your mind began to spiral, you failed to realize how labored your breathing became, nor did you notice the quivering of your hands, and you didn’t even bother to care about the globs of tears rolling down your face. You didn’t know it at the time, but all those feelings of dread and turmoil that your brain was subconsciously burying were finally breaking to the surface. ‘How–how am I even gonna be able to keep doing this? I-I can’t, I don’t think–’ Feeling like the room was spinning, your eyes seemed to dart around before they settled on the brightly colored sticky notes on your vanity mirror.

One note in particular caught your eye. 

‘You’ve got this!’

It was such a small and simple declaration, but reading it brought you clarity. It kept you together before you could fully fall apart.

‘Okay stop,’ you assertively thought to yourself. ‘Being pessimistic won’t get me anywhere.’ In an effort to try and calm yourself down, you laid your head down on the desk, savoring the feeling of the cold surface on your hot face, and closed your eyes. You took in a few deep breaths to try and stop your racing heart, to stop the shaking of your hands, and to stop the whirlwind of thought and emotions that were overwhelming you. ‘The timeline might be off now, but I can still do this, I can still figure out how to save everyone.’ 

Sitting up right, you reach into the very bottom of your junk drawer, and you pull out the notebook that you wrote down all of the original plot in. Your junk drawer was the only place you could think of where most people wouldn’t go snooping because of how cluttered it was, later you would buy a small lockbox to put it in. Opening it, you turned to the page where you neatly wrote down everything and began to analyze all the information. ‘Even if the plot changed, now that there is no murder investigation, there are still plenty of opportunities that I have to prevent Akui from wanting to kill one of the targets. School events, field trips, festivals, all points that didn’t necessarily connect to Yuki’s investigation, and if they don’t connect to the investigation then they will happen regardless. Now for the plot events that are connected….’ Uncapping a black pen, you draw a thin line through every situation that happened in correlation to Makino’s murder. 

School was closed for investigation until Monday, crossed out.

Talk around town about Makino’s supposed suicide, crossed out.

The police released a report that stated Makino was actually killed, crossed out.

Suzuki changes econ partners…

‘Actually,’ you think to yourself. ‘Suzuki changes lab partners in home EC because Makino was his old partner, and she died, so he needed a new one. Class 2-A, our classroom, originally had thirty-six students before Yuki arrived. With her addition, the class became an odd number of thirty-seven, leaving her without a partner. That is until Makino’s death. With an extra spot open, Yuki became partners with Suzuki, fully kickstarting the romantic feelings he would grow for her. Romantic feelings that will get him killed. 

How can I keep those two apart?

Even though Makino didn’t die, she was still expelled, and a spot is still open for Suzuki to become Yuki’s partner. It’s unavoidable, really, because I can’t ask to be Yuki’s partner since I already have one, who I don’t even remember because I have only been to that class one day this week, and I can’t trade partners because the teacher is the one who assigned them. Think, Y/n, think. There has to be something that I can do.’

Vigorously flipping through your notes, you try to come up with a solution, a plan, to keep Suzuki from pursuing Yuki. 

“This is hopeless!” You groan, face flopping down onto your desk, hands limp at your sides. ‘I don’t have enough information about the guy to even try and formulate a plan. The only hard info that I have is that he goes missing next weekend, doesn’t show up to class that Monday, and his body was found a few days later. I don’t even know he got so attached to Yuki, the two of them only ever interact in home EC for some reason, and he asks her out on a date Friday afternoon. Surely that boy needs more than an hour a day of interaction to apparently ‘fall head over heels’ for someone.’ It seems the plot holes and irregularities of the story have finally come back to haunt you. ‘And of course she agrees because who cares about a murderer on the loose when you have teen romance in the air, not them apparently.’

Lifting your head up, you pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance. “Great,” you scoffed quietly to yourself. “All this crying and thinking is giving me a headache.” Your eyes were squeezed shut in a pained grimace, and you softly began to message your head. It felt like every injury you sustained yesterday was throbbing.

“Ignoring him for now, what happens between now and Friday?” Still messaging your head, you think aloud to yourself. “Students are scared… bullies are quiet… Yuki starts investigating…” ‘But most of that happened because of the murder, people should be acting normal now that it never happened. There might be a bit of gossip surrounding Makino’s expulsion but other than that this week should otherwise be normal.’ The thought of a normal week allowed you to give a small sigh of relief. ‘So I don’t have to worry about psychotic people trying to hurt me, that should give me breathing room to figure this out and stop Suzuki before Friday.’

Relieved by the idea of having a normal week ahead, you decide to finish up marking in your notebook before you put it away. With a yellow highlighter, you mark every detail, or event, that relates directly to the murder mystery aspect of the game. As long as you did your job correctly then none of what you highlighted would be that important.

Feeling like you aged thirty years in the last thirty minutes, you robotically closed up and put away your notebook, burying it again at the bottom of your junk drawer. Despite it being mid-day, you just felt like going back to sleep. Of course you wouldn't actually go back to bed, to you it felt like a waste of time, so instead you decided to get ready for the day, the start of it wasn’t as great as you had hoped but you still had the rest of it to make the most of. 

Lifting your gaze up, you caught a look of yourself in your vanity mirror. “Geez, I look awful.” You didn’t actually take a good look at yourself until just now. Your hair was ruffled and tangled, sticking up in various directions; your face was puffy and bruised, irritated from all of Makino’s assaults; your eyes were red and swollen, a faint black eye had formed under it. The bandage on your forehead would also need to be changed but you didn’t have any more supplies in your room, which was fine, you needed to go to the bathroom to clean up anyways. Right now you were a mess and not the hot kind.

Sluggishly, you left your room and were about to enter the bathroom that was across from it, but your mother calling for you briefly prevented you from doing so. “Y/n,” she hallard from down stairs. “Is that you?”

Pausing in your step, you replied, “Y-yeAh.” Your voice cracked mid-way, so you cleared the frog from your throat and continued. “Yeah, it’s me. I was just about to go to the bathroom.”

“Oh, okay. Well, your little friend came by this morning and dropped you off a package. I left it in the living room for you, so come check it out when you’re done.”

“Okay, I will.” Curious as to what the contents of the package were, you did your best to hurry and complete your morning route without straining yourself. You couldn’t use the products that you would normally use to wash your face, not with all the cuts and scratches that littered your face at least, so instead you opted to just use water and an antibacterial soap. Washing your face was probably the hardest part since you couldn’t get your cast wet, but everything else was pretty easy to do, brushing your teeth, changing your bandage, all were quickly completed. You ended up not doing anything to your hair, your head still felt too tender after everything that happened yesterday, and you were not willing to try and sort out your bird's nest.

Now that you were done you could finally satiate your curiosity. Making quick work of the stairs, you enter the living room and quickly spotted a small white box, with a yellow ribbon tied around it, sitting on the coffee table. After untying the bow and lifting up the lid, you realized that it was a little ‘feel better’ package that Yuki prepared for you. Inside was a small assortment of gas station goodies: a box of matcha flavored poki, strawberry wafer cookies, a strawberry flavored soda from a brand that you have never heard of, a box of yogurt covered raisins, a few boxes of milk chocolate candies, and a bag of dried fruit. There were also a couple of non-food related items too like: a brand new pair of fluffy socks, a packet of stickers, two blind bags from an anime that you have never seen before, and a handwritten card.

Picking up the card first, you read it to yourself.

‘Dear, L/n-chan, I hope that you are feeling better by the time you get to read this. I heard about what Makino-san did to you today, and I am so sorry that I wasn’t there to help you out. I promise that I will try better as a friend to stand up for you and keep you safe! (Did you know I have a black belt in Judo) Anyways, I have put together a few of my favorite snacks for you and a couple of other goodies (I didn’t know what you would have liked so I hope these will do :(  ). Please get well soon so that way we can have a proper hang out and I won’t have to guess on your favorite snacks. In all seriousness, I hope you feel better soon. Sincerely, Kobayashi Yuki’

You almost felt like crying again, touched by Yuki’s kindness, but you already had a headache from the last time that you did, so you instead chose to indulge yourself a bit in the tasty treats she got for you. 

“I hope you don’t just plan on spoiling your appetite with junk,” Your mother playfully teased. She stood by the door leading to the kitchen, hand on her hip, waiting expectantly.

“What? Noo…” The pitch of your voice raised as you nervously tried to play off the situation. “I was just lightly snacking.”

“Hmm, sure. Alright, Ms. Lightly Snacking, I have breakfast ready in the kitchen.” Your mother turned back into the kitchen. “Well, it’s more like a brunch, but it’s better than whatever you were just about to eat.”

You scrambled to put up the nice gift that you got before you hasten your way to the dining room. The same time you sat down at the table, your mother entered from the kitchen’s side door and placed down a tray of steaming hot food for you. It was different from the other breakfasts that she prepared for you previously this week. While those were a more traditional Japanese breakfast with white rice, tofu soup, a slice of grilled salmon, and different vegetables (which was very different to how she used to cook you breakfast), with this one you could tell she was trying to spoil you after yesterday. It was what you liked to call an American breakfast which consisted of bacon, easy-over eggs, hash browns, and a plate of pancakes. You also had a bowl of fresh fruit with yogurt. In true American fashion, it wasn’t the healthiest but this was supposed to be a treat anyways. It helped that it all was homemade, your mother would never dare to use box mix anything.

As you began to dig into your food, you chose to ignore the hovering of your mother. You didn’t need to look at her to know that her face held a more worried look than normal.

It almost startled you when she reached to fix your hair a bit. “Your hair is a mess,” she stated.

Putting down your fork, you responded saying, “Yeah, my head hurt too much to try and tame it.”

“Oh, my poor baby…” your mother sadly said, motherly cupping your face with her hand. “I’m sorry this happened to you, my love.” Tenderly, she rubbed her thumb under your slightly bruised eye. “Don’t worry though, I have already taken care of most of the legalities, we have court in a few weeks, so you will get justice.”

“Court?”

“Yes, I am suing them for all the trouble they caused you, and I am hoping to get a restraining order placed against that crazy girl.”

“Oh, okay.” Was the only way you knew how to respond to that before you went back to eating. You finished the rest of your brunch in relative silence while your mother left to quickly do the dishes. With your meal finished you took your dirtied dishes to your mother and sat down in the living room. You didn’t do anything in particular, you didn’t even put on tv, you just sat there in silence.

A few moments later, your mother peaked her head into the living room. “Do you want to do puzzles with me?” she asked.

You contemplated for only a second before you turned your head and said, “Hm, yeah…” And that is how you spent the remainder of your day, quietly completing puzzles with your mother until your father got home. That quiet afternoon served as a break that took your mind off of the inevitable reality that you will have to face. The day didn’t start off like you expected, having a midlife crisis at the age of seventeen really dampens one’s mood, but by the end of it you felt you could forget about everything. Forget about Suzuki; forget about Akui; forget about the world that you were stuck in. At least until tomorrow, you could forget about all your worries.

[written-in-ink]

And So The Sky Fell

A/N: This is a short chapter from a draft I found in my notes and I thought it was cool so I decided to rework it into its own piece. I'll rework some other chapters from the draft if people are interested and I can explain some of the plot but it's not really a project I plan to finish.

TW: mentions of de@th and blo0d

It was a quick movement.

   I didn’t even notice him move.

   The dagger is cold against my skin, then suddenly something wet and warm drips from my neck. I put a hand to my throat to see what was causing the warm feeling.

   My fingers are painted with a sickening shade of red.

   The slight metallic smell scares me.

   It’s blood.

   Not Ernest’s blood, not Dahlia’s blood - mine.

   Blood is spilling from my neck fast. I take deep, heavy breaths and fall to my knees.

   No, no this can’t be happening. Am I going to die?

   There’s a pool of blood surrounding me, staining my clothes crimson. It hurts. It’s agonising. 

   I let out one final scream to let the world know my pain. People will watch this and realise the monster that is Ernest Nightshade.

   Everything in front of me is blurry but in my head, everything finally makes sense. My dad was wrong about the Gifted. We should never have started fighting about who’s superior. It should’ve never been 'sans talent' vs the Gifted. 

   We suppressed one, now they want revenge. In a few decades, they’ll suppress us and we’ll want revenge. If this cycle continues, more lives will be lost without reason. If I die tonight, it won’t be in vain.

   Someone runs towards me. White dress, blonde highlights - it has to be Hyacinth. She presses one hand onto my wounds and I wince at the pain. She puts the other behind my head and I let myself rest.

   “Hyacinth,” I whimper. I hate feeling weak. There was nothing I could do to stop Ernest. I can’t die knowing that my death was for naught. “Don’t let them win.”

   Tears fell from her eyes. I didn’t think she’d care. I’ve said some unforgivable things to her and her boyfriend, yet she’s still willing to help me when I’m at Death’s doorstep.

   “Shut up. Stop acting like you’re going to die here,” she sobs.

   

   There’s a loud ringing in my ear now. All other sounds are starting to fade. Hyacinth says something, but I can barely make out her words. My sight is getting blurrier too. I can’t tell if I’m dying or if my tears are causing it.

   “Hyacinth, I don’t want to die.”

I’ve spent nights staring at my ceiling, thinking about what comes next. Do I go to heaven? Or is there nothing after death? Maybe the afterlife is just a barren wasteland that shows you images of what could’ve been. Those were the nights that I hated most. Most of my questions are going to be answered tonight, I suppose.

   The next few minutes are a blur.

   “Told… Not… Die…” What is she saying? It doesn’t matter. It’s too late for me. I should start thinking of my last words.

   “Tell them that I’m sorry. Tell them not to forget me.”

   I have so much more to say. I never got to confess my love to Cameron. Nor did I tell my brother that I’m proud of him.

   What is Luke going to say? I don’t want him to see me like this, weak and pathetic. He should be disappointed in me. I don’t deserve to be his brother.

   I savour the warmth of Hyacinth’s hands.

   I hope everything goes well for her.

   There’s a bright, white light.

   The pain has stopped.

   I can finally rest.

[oceanid-writes]

Infraction: Chapter One

Pairing: Yandere L x Reader

Infraction- (a violation or infringement of a law or agreement.)

Summary: In which you come to possess a death note, and catch the eye of a detective with sinister motives.

Warnings: Death, overall creepiness.

Notes: Here it is! I’ve never planned or written a chapter for a longer series before, so here goes nothing. This is a pilot chapter, and if it does super poorly I will not be continuing it. However, if it does do well, expect more chapters in the future!

Prologue

-----------------------------------------------------------------

There is no redemption for criminals. 

No forgiveness for those with corrupted hearts, the criminals who terrorize the innocent. 

That you know all too well. 

Still, you find it in your weakened body to collapse into the table, chained hands clasped together in prayer.

“God, if you’re up there, please, save me.” You mumble into your hands. There’s no response, and you’re met with only waves of guilt crashing into your thoughts, accompanied by an oddly familiar clenching in your heart. 

You dug a grave so deep that no one can help you now. You accepted the sweet seeds of power, and became sick on it. It’s too late.

There is no God for you anymore. There can’t be. No one can exist to you anymore except the man with messy black hair, and large dark circles under his even darker eyes. He sits, no, crouches on the seat directly in front of you, hands rested on the table in front of you. There’s an odd glint in his eyes, a weird twist to the edge of his mouth.

“I find it quite fascinating that you’ve turned religious,” He says, savoring every expression you make. 

He’s enjoying this. He wants to see you break. 

L’s next words only confirm your suspicions.

“I’m particularly interested to see how you’ll react to the legal repercussions of what you did.”

He must be loving the half-angry, half-shocked expression that flashes across your face.

“You are, after all, a criminal,” He continues. “And that places you under the jurisdiction of, technically speaking, myself and the law.”

No, you know it’s true now. There is no god for you anymore, because the being you once thought to be an all-powerful blessing stands behind you, laughing in a high pitched tone, excited to watch you break.

Chapter One: The Shinigami

-----------------------------------------------------------------

It began with a gift.

The air outside your bedroom window was cold and angry that day, and if you were to open the latch it would surely rip you into the breeze. Orange and red trees thrashed against the howls of the sky, violently slapping any surfaces they could touch. 

Spare leaves rustled against neatly trimmed grass far outside, while you sat on the cushioned seat of the window, book in hand. 

Your house was empty that day. Your siblings weren’t trampling down the stairs, you can’t hear the banging of pans and closing of cabinets from the kitchen. Everything inside was silent.

It was peaceful, in a way.

But things like that don’t last.

You heard a loud thump from outside your window. Curiously, you looked outside. 

That noise.

It wasn’t like a bird had bounced off your window.

For some reason, it felt sickening.

Ignoring the odd sensations in your chest, you peaked through the glass of your window. That was when you first glimpsed it.

An oddly bound book, made out of what looked to be thick black pieces of leather. 

And there it was, seated right on the edge of your window. Amongst the wind, it laid unmoved, unwavering. Waiting to be picked up.

You opened the window, just a crack, only to reach out and grab the book.

It felt warm in your hands, yet in an odd way. Like the warmth of skin.

‘Death Note’ the cover read, and you wondered what kind of book it was.

You opened the odd thing, and there, splayed out on the pages, were rules.

“The human whose name is written in this note shall die.”

Die? It’s supposed to kill people?

“This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.

“If the cause of death is written within 40 seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen.”

“If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a Heart attack.”

“After writing the cause of death, the details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds.”

“The Death note will not affect those under 780 days old.”

“A death note will be rendered useless if the victim's name is misspelled four times.”

“If a death note is lost or stolen the owner will lose ownership unless it is retrieved within 490 days.”

It was a joke. It had to be. A sick one, but so eerily creative you couldn’t brush away the knot in your stomach. 

Flipping the page, you noticed more rules.

Your stomach began to knot even more.

“The Shinigami's voice and form will go completely unnoticed by others.”

Shinigami?

A bile began to rise in your throat even thinking about it. What did it mean by shinigami?

Your room was already darkening with every movement of the sky, so much that the back half had been sliced in half with a shadow consumed the half untouched by light. 

When your eyes finally adjusted, and you looked to the dark, there it was.

It grinned toothily, and made itself known with a voice like an old record player.

“Hello,” It said.

“You’re such an interesting human. I’m Ryuk.”

[thirstyforjaviersass]

His Smile | Chapter I

Summary: A very angsty fic, super angsty. It's sad, I teared up a bit writing this. A bit too much. This was one of the first Game of Thrones fics that I ever wrote a couple years ago, never got around to finishing it. Well now I will be so here it is. This fic is kinda about Robb Stark x Talisa. There is barely any Robb Stark x reader in here.. so... reader is so madly in love with the man but he gets swooped off his feet by little miss Talisa. It begins a little before the 'Red Wedding' where reader watches as their love falls deeply in love with another woman, reader watches as time goes on and as things slowly become madness. They watch Robb die at 'The Red Wedding'. So be prepared for the tears.

Warnings: Lots of angst, sad reader and stuff. Some spoilers are also in this post so if you haven't seen that much of GoT and don't wish to see any spoilers than I think it's best that you hop on to another location. lol Of course there isn't many spoilers as it is only chapter one.

A/N: Look... I really wanted to post a fanfic on here, I've always wanted to. I abandoned my Wattpad account and my AO3 account has been dead for a while. Now that I don't have a job anymore I have more time to post fanfic again. This is my first fanfic that I will ever post on here so I'm excited. So please, if you have anything in mind, let me know. Your thoughts on the fic? Suggestions, requests? Maybe even some constructive criticism. Go ahead!

There will be two or three parts to this, though it all depends if anyone ends up falling in love with the fic. I will make another chapter. Or if it gets more than ten notes, the more encouragement the better. My friend offered to edit any mistakes, so thanks to him it should look a lot better than it did previously! Thanks, bestie! ^^

Also Posted Here: Posted on my AO3, link is here: Clickie!

Word Count: 2677 Words

The smile he gave her and the way he touched her made it hard to watch. All this time you had been in love with him, it made you blind to the fact that he never once had a shred of an infatuation towards you. It was painful to watch their gentle, sweet interactions and how his eyes lit up every time he saw her. He loved her.. You could tell, he loved her and you hated it. Why did you have to love him so much?? The constant rejection you'd receive from him ever since he met her hurt so deeply. It hurt more than you could convey and all you did was watch…

Before he met her, you were happy, the constant flirting made you think he felt the same for you. You guessed you were wrong. He was only using you. That thought tore a hole straight through your heart. To think this kind, beautiful and understanding man could just use you…

You didn't think that you could ever forgive him. But then again, Robb was your friend, or at least you thought he was. Maybe he just needed someone to play with until he found another person to destroy entirely. 'That can't be right, he's nothing like that. He's so sweet, he always was. Maybe it's just me, maybe I'm the one playing with his emotions..' You thought, negative thoughts never letting up.

Thinking positive was all you could do, though that still didn't do a thing. It didn't heal your broken heart and it didn't make things easier.

"It has to be.. Why else would he be so distant…?" You spoke out loud, shaking your head while you attempted to mull over those sickening thoughts which had plagued your mind for so long. The jealousy in which you felt towards a woman you barely knew. The guilt which ate away at you when you thought about how kind she truly was. You would let out a sigh, defeated by your thoughts, only wishing to leave the training grounds to which you stood in as you watched the troops train with one another.

They seemed like they were doing well. Quite skilled to say the least. But you would shake your head, way off track. You had sighed once more, turning towards your tent, only to bump into the very people you didn't want to see in the slightest. "What are you talking about (y/n/n)?" You had gazed up at the voice of the man speaking, admiring the way the blue eyed man smiled. Admiring the way his lips formed into the most beautiful smile you eyes had ever seen. 

You gazed into his eyes, blue like the ocean. It reminded you of the thick waves which would cover anything in its wake. It reminded you of the scent, the calmness in which the beach had brought. You almost smiled at that, stopping before you even dared and shaking yourself out of your trance. 'Why must he call me that?? I don't want to hear it anymore!' The thought almost escapes your plump and almost swollen lips. The constant biting on your lips wasn't helpful, the stress far too much to bear.

You turn to his left and see that woman again, her eyes shining with curiosity. "Nothing, my lord.." You say. We were about to leave before you felt a slight tug on your wrist which made you cease movement. Not enough to hurt but enough to make you stop in your tracks. "I thought I told you not to call me that, (y/n/n)!" He giggled, making you cringe. 'Why must he continue to call me that?? Especially in her presence?' He frowned when he saw your face, removing his hand from your arm gently. The way he studied your face, the way his gaze had fallen once you made eye contact. 

It struck a blow to your heart, but you wouldn't have it - "Are you alright, (y/n/n)? You've been acting differently lately, more different than usual. Is something going on?" His gaze would return only to speak as if nothing had happened, as if this wasn't bothering him at all. You cringed again, turning around once more. You wanted to leave - You wanted to get away from this man as soon as possible. But your heart rate would quicken, the pain would only worsen once your eyes met with his once more.

Avoiding his gaze, you would reply simply. "I'm fine, I just wish to be alone, is all.." Your plea surprised him, but he nodded nonetheless. He acted as if nothing was wrong. It frustrated you greatly. You almost grumbled while you attempted to remain calm. "Alright, just please tell me if you need anything. I'm always here if you need me.." The sound of his slight disappointment shocked yet saddened you. You didn't expect to hear anything like that. 

Especially not now of all times. Especially since he acted as if nothing had happened... but you continued on either way, bowing before you would turn on your heel and head back to your tent. "Thank you, my lord.. Goodbye now." You replied, not even daring to show the slightest bit of emotion in fear of raising more questions. You made sure to keep your eyes away from him, walking towards your tent.

///

The look he gave you was almost heartbreaking, you hated making him feel that way or anything besides happiness. Robb's a great man, and you care for him. Seeing him with her just made your feelings worse. The heartache which tore at your heart was enough to strike you down as soon as you entered your tent. Talisa is sweet, you couldn't ask for someone else, especially when she makes him so happy and never hurts him or his feelings. But the pain which scoured throughout your heart made it difficult to breathe as you collapsed onto the ground, heart beating painfully and erratically.

You were barely able to sigh out, having lost so much air in that moment and feeling a slight tinge of regret as you thought of Robb's sad features. He seemed so sad, maybe he noticed something? Of course not. He was too naïve to notice when someone was suffering, let alone pay any mind. He may have been sweet, but that didn't mean he was very observant. Especially not in matters such as this.

////

You thought of the way Robb gazed at Talisa, the soft smile on his face whenever he saw her. You thought of the way that he held her, the way he would whisper sweet nothings into her ear. You imagined the way he once held you, the way he used to smile within your presence. The joy that once grazed at your heart each time you felt him near. The way your heart skipped a beat at even the thought of him. The way he once wrapped his arms around your waist. How he used to kiss your cheek lovingly. A frown would emerge from your face, a small tear sliding down your left cheek as you pictured his wonderful smile as he stood beside you.

You missed all the times you shared with one another - you missed the feeling of his arms around you, the thought would cause your hand to wrap tightly over the other as you attempted to drown out your thoughts by lifting your hand to take another swig at your wine. The sound of the music filled your ears, listening to the bards play peacefully…

But the sound of Lord Frey's voice would interrupt you from your final moments of calm. The sound of his voice was invasive, but you wouldn't let it show as you sat still in your seat beside Talisa. You thought it might be best to get to know Robb's new wife. They had gotten married some time ago. You watched the ceremony with a monotonous expression, almost no feelings towards the situation at all.

If anything, you were tired of crying - you were tired of constantly reminiscing on events that would never happen again, Robb found his happiness and all you could do was allow it to occur. There wasn't anything that you could do now or in that moment. You had spent that night drinking, consuming as much wine as your tired and weak mind could control. You had passed out in your tent early that morning, completely drained from the night previous.

Now you sat in the dining room of the Frey's dining hall, drunk and almost hopeless. You had heard the sound of Talisa's voice, turning her head away from Robb as she had just now focused on your behaviour. You seemed weak, unwell and it seemed to have worried her quite a bit, based on her facial features. Her mouth was situated in a frown, her eyes held something close to pity as she studied you. You were about to respond but the sound of skin on skin contact and the sound of Catelyn yelling out her son's name would distract you both as you turned to see what was happening.

The sudden ruckus had distracted you both long enough for a man to run up behind you and stab Talisa in the stomach - as if he had no heart whatsoever. The scene in front of you would cause you to gasp out, hands placed on your mouth as you froze for a moment. He stabbed her once - twice, three times before you were able to move from where you were and grab onto his arm with all your strength. "Y - you monster, how could you do such a thing??" You questioned. The man attempted to pull away, but your grip was strong enough to pull you both onto the ground as you got on top of him.

Arrows began flying as men's throats were slit left and right - you could hear Talisa cry out as she would attempt to pull her chair back. You rolled out of the way. Before long the chair would fall onto the man who stabbed her. Rushing to your feet, you ran to Talisa's side - but before you could reach her, Robb caught your line of sight.

You watched as multiple arrows pierced through him, a cry of fear escaped your throat, some tears would fall from your eyes as you moved to grab Talisa before she could fall onto the ground.

Your tears would fall as you slid down, onto your knees before Talisa. A pain exploded within your heart, watching the scene around you. All you could see was violence. Death… and the sounds of raw, unhinged screams. "Talisa - I'm so sorry... Please.. I beg you - " Your pained voice echoed throughout the hall, mostly hidden by all the screaming and groans of pain which echoed throughout the dining hall. From your peripheral vision, you could see Robb dragging himself towards Talisa, standing up for a moment once he was close enough and falling to his knees in front of her. 

His eyes were filled with black misery. You could see his tears forming, about to fall at any second. But it was too late, she was gone. She felt cold to the touch, her skin pale, eyes wide open like a bug dead on the floor.

You felt as Robb moved his hands towards her. A hand on her stomach as he lifted Talisa from your lap and moved her towards his own with the saddest gaze you had ever seen. You ignored the sounds of Lord Frey's voice, watching with tearful eyes as Robb gazed into Talisa's wide orbs.

You would jump once the sound of Lady Stark's voice filled the room, your gaze falling onto Robb's mother as she held a knife to some poor girl's throat. A bloodied hand would move to your mouth, a look of shock plastered on your features while you attempted to stifle your fear-filled breathing. "Let it end!" Catelyn shouted, her voice filled with anger and grief while her deranged eyes stared daggers into the proud lord's own.

Her voice was mostly drowned out by your overbearing mind while thoughts of fear, distress and even sadness filled your mind. You knew this wasn't likely to end well. That the King of the North was to likely die any time soon, along with yourself and everyone else. 

You were almost welcoming death in that moment, not necessarily afraid of your watery eyes landing onto Robb. Cateyn's voice was filled with desperation as she cried out for her son to get up from the floor, begging him to leave the room to escape. Tears had already slid down her pretty cheeks, a look of grief shared by you as you gazed sadly at the desperate mother before you.

"And why.. would I let him do that?" The Frey lord asked, what seemed like a sarcastic or puzzled tone as his gaze had moved to the screaming Lady Stark. She had turned to him, her gaze transfixed on him, dagger piercing deeper into her hostage's skin as she yelled out a response. "On my honour as a Tully..! On my honour as a Stark!" Lady Stark's gaze remained on Lord Frey, her tones were menacing, demanding even. She had a wild look about her, angry and yet grief struck at the scene around her.

You felt a lump in your throat, almost forcing yourself to swallow it in an attempt to conceal your undeniable sadness. Robb didn't seem to react to anything. It was as if he were frozen in time, lost in the gaze of his love, Talisa. An act that would surely be his downfall, you were certain of that. There was a look of fear in your eyes, expression still remained the same. A frown displayed on your face, eyes still as wide as Talisa's while you stared closely at Robb. 

"Let him Go! Or I'll cut your wife's throat!!" Catelyn threatened, voice willed with complete and utter rage. Her voice would ring through the bloodstained hall, brave as ever while she stood there, hand pulling the poor woman's hair back, her knife pressing harder into Frey’s wifes neck until a small trickle of blood leaked out.

Robb had stood up around that time, placing his deceased wife down as he called out to his mother. The Frey lords voice was ever so amused. 

You stared mindlessly at the ground in front of you, mind completely deserted from the goings on around you. Your heart was in pain, your mind could not take it any further. You had tuned out everything around you, not taking notice of the man standing behind you with a dagger ever so sharp. He had pulled you up, yanking you to your feet before laying a hand onto your left shoulder and pulling you into the blade he swung into your back. You let out a soft moan of pain, your vision darkening, one of the last things your eyes bare witness to was the figure of Robb turning towards you before falling to his knees.

Everything went dark - the sounds of fire drowning out any voices which you likely would have heard if you were still aware as to what may have been happening around you. All you could feel was your own blood pool around you once your body had hit the floor. The ground was hard, and it became increasingly difficult to breathe. 

You had let out some shaky breaths, your rapid heartbeat filling your ears, counting each beat before it finally stopped in its place. You no longer heard the sound of the fire, or the sounds of your beating heart. You could no longer feel the blood pouring around you and you could no longer feel your breath leave your lungs. Who knows where you were now, but surely it was a far better place than it was here. A bright light welcomed you, the sound of hurried footsteps filling your ears.

[inactive17645]

Safe & Sound [1]

Chapter One: Pilot

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Reader & Wells Jaha x Reader

Warnings: Swearing & Mild Violence

Word Count: 3637

Author’s Note: Welcome to the first chapter of my very first series here on tumblr! I hope you guys come enjoy the ride and stay until the end. I know there are a few Bellamy x Reader fanfic series on here now, but I really wanted to put my own spin on a The 100 rewrite. Also, please let me know if you want to be tagged in any future parts by either PMing me or through my ‘Ask Me Anything’ tab on my profile!

Season Masterlist

Series Masterlist

      It was supposed to be like any other day. I’d wake up, the guard would give me three small portions of food throughout the day, whilst rereading the various classics and Greek mythology books my father sent. Eventually, I’d fall back asleep with my mother’s dove pendant clutched in my hand as I gazed out the window, into the dark abyss scattered with diamonds. On every other day, you’d make sure to aside time to practice self-defence. Something that my father had guards teach me before I was locked up.

    Today was not one of those days. The chaos of yelling, screaming and grumbling outside the door ripped me from my trance. I shook my head and tried to engross myself again in the book I clutched, but the sound of the door flinging open broke it.

     It also didn’t help that this was the last day before I’d be eighteen. Before I’d be floated.

     “Prisoner 301, face the wall.” My breath hitched in my throat. No! I still had one more day! 

When you didn’t even move an inch towards a wall the guard stalked his way towards you, his presence towering over your sitting form. “Get up on your feet!”

     “No! I still have a day left you cunt!” You screeched.

     With a punch to the man’s groin, he collapsed to the ground and you scampered out to escape. Unfortunately, I’ve tried to escape my cell multiple times so it was no surprise when someone tackled me as soon as I left the room.

      “Get. Me. The. Fuck Off!” I yelled as punch after punch landed on the man’s back. The man grunted after each punch, but he never let me go until I was stood in front of the one man who turned me in a year ago. My own father; Marcus Kane.

     Although it was a relief to see him after so long, I couldn’t help but glare at the man. He was supposed to be there for you no matter what, yet he never visited. Too much of a coward to face you and sent books in his place. The kind of books you and your mom used to read together.

     “Dad?!” I hated him, but I still hugged him. I hated him, but I still loved my father.

     Your eyes glossed with tears that had every intention to escape.

 “I don’t want to die, not today!” I pleaded, refusing the tears to shower my cheeks. “I don’t want to be floated!”

     “You’re not being floated (y/n),” He told you. “You’re being sent down to earth.” A chill ran down my spine.

     “But I thought the earth was still uninhabitable?” Dad just shook his head as another guard hooked me over their shoulder and stalked away from my father’s now retreating figure.

     Typical. Just like when I was first chucked in the skybox. He couldn’t even muster a single goodbye. The punching of another guard ensued as he hauled me over to the dropship entrance.

     Suddenly, there was a prick in my arm and gradually I drew drowsier, and drowsier. My punches slowly weakened after each hit. The last thing I saw before I succumbed to darkness was the menacing smirk of one Commander Shumway, my eyes darkening in both anger and fear.

     In what felt like seconds, my eyes squinted open while adjusting to the poor lighting of the dropship. Screams and yells from others around me filled my ears. As my vision came into focus, I looked around to see the horror morphed on many of the teens’ faces. In the seat five seats down from me, I recognised a familiar head of blonde that I knew oh so well.

     “Clarke!” I called. The blonde whipped her head my way and relief settled on both our faces. “Thank the gods you’re here! If I could I’d smother you in a hug right now I would!”

     The two of us bursted out laughing knowing I’d actually smother her. Before I had the chance to ask her something else, Chancellor Jaha’s voice filled the room.

     “Prisoners of the Ark, hear me now. You’ve been given a second chance. And as your chancellor, it is my hope that you see this as not just a chance for you, but a chance for all of us. Indeed, for mankind itself. We have no idea what is waiting for you down there. If the odds of survival were better, we would’ve sent others. Frankly, we’re sending you because your crimes have made you expendable.”

     Expendable? What the hell?! All I did was try to spread the word that the life-support system for the Ark was failing, after overhearing a heated discussion between Jaha, my father and others in the Council.

     “Everyone here being expendable is bullshit and you know it!” My voice echoed throughout the dropship, catching the attention of everyone in the room. I gulped at the stares thrown my way, but it was the stare of the single guard in the room that caught my eye.

     No guards were supposed to be inside. So the only reason why he’d be here would be because he was escaping something… or to protect someone. Perhaps a certain younger sister that wasn’t supposed to be born?

     It had to be Bellamy Blake, the older brother of floor girl, Octavia Blake. His gaze seemed to linger on me slightly longer than the other delinquents around. I wasn’t sure if it was due to pure curiosity or how everyone knew I was Marcus Kane’s daughter. I tore my gaze away from his blank stare and stared down at the metal ground.

     As Jaha’s speech became muffled, I gaped at the floor and the room began to groan and shake. A familiar dark-skinned young man was suddenly talking to Clarke.

     “Wells?” I questioned. His brown orbs tore away from Clarke, his gaze landing on me.

     “(Y/N)! Thank god!” He floated over to me, pulled me up to my feet and smothered me in a hug. A giggle vibrated through my chest. “What’s so funny?”

     “I told Clarke I’d smother her in a hug, yet you’ve gone and did just that to me,” I chuckled. Wells only chuckled as I hugged him back.

     “This is nice —” We both started but ended in a fit of giggles. Two other delinquents then join Wells and I in standing up. I could hear Clarke softly calling my name to sit back down along with the others standing, but I just ignored it. 

     Strangely, Wells still held on to me and sat in the seat I was in just before, plopping me onto his lap and snuggling into me more. He and I did have a weirdly affectionate friendship before both our arrests, but even this was pushing the line between friendship and a romantic relationship. 

     The dropship lurched, sending three delinquents flying who had left their seats despite Clarke’s protests. I clunged to Wells’ neck as his grip on my waist tightened, closing my eyes tight. Something sickening yet sweet filled my nose. Smoke. Sparks went off right and left and with one final violent jolt, the dropship came to a stop.

     We were on the ground!

     The dropship powers down almost instantaneously and echoes of seatbelts unbuckling filled the room. Heat rose to my cheeks as I slowly clambered off Wells’ lap. His cheeks were crimson red as were probably my own. I helped him to his feet and took one of my hands in his, leading him down to the doors, waiting for them to be to opened as a crowd formed in front.

     A dark-haired girl stormed through yelling, “Bellamy!” The guy in the uniform I saw before spun around and stared at the girl in shock. So I was right! He was Bellamy Blake and that girl was definitely Octavia, his sister.

     “My God, look how big you are!” The two smiled at each other before the girl - Octavia - jumped forward and pulled Bellamy into a tight hug.

     “Where’s your wristband?” Clarke asked Bellamy as she sided next to Wells and I.

     “Do you mind?” Octavia cut Clarke off with an annoyed look. “I haven’t seen my brother in a year.”

     “Seriously Clarke?” I jumped in, everyone’s eyes turning to me as I let go of Wells’ hand. “We’ve reached the ground and the first thing you do is ask where the guy’s wristband is?” Clarke was surprised by my outburst, but Octavia and Bellamy looked at me thankful that I stood up for them.

     “Surely you’d like to be known as someone else. Perhaps the first person on the ground in a hundred years?” Octavia grinned in appreciation whilst Bellamy nodded my way.

     I returned the smile as Bellamy pulled on a nearby lever, opening the door to the outside. As a haze of smoke breaks, a bright light shone into the ship, momentarily blinding me but the lush colours of green, blue and brown eventually took its place.

     Finally, I’d be able to put my Earth Skills to use!

     Octavia slowly made her way down the ramp before she stepped onto the ground. She turned back towards the ship, a massive grin etched on her olive face.

     “We’re back bitches!” She threw her arms up as she yelled.

     A parade of teens stormed off the ship in a hurry, yelling and screaming that we’re back. A laugh resonated in my chest as a familiar presence took my hand in theirs.

     “Together?” Wells asked. With a soft sigh, I nodded, but not before I leapt onto his back. He shook his head as he wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck.

     “Ride on my noble steed!”

     A gush of air swept through my (Y/H/C) locks as Wells sprinted out the door, but within seconds of Wells being on the ground, we both tumbled onto the grass. One glance at each other was enough to send us into a fit of laughter.

     “I missed you, Wells —”

     “I missed you, (Y/N) —” A chuckle from above broke two of us from our trance.

     “It hasn’t even been a day and you two are back to finishing each other’s sentences.” Clarke towered over Wells and I, teasingly shaking her head at us.

     “Are you really surprised at this point, Clarke?” I retorted as I jumped to my feet, smothering the blonde in a tight hug.

     “Nope!” With a quick kiss to Wells’ cheek, I sauntered off in hopes of recognising someone else. Within two minutes I had lost the motivation so I found myself a sturdy and long enough stick I could use to fashion a bow with. Someone’s shoelace would probably work for the string.

     I sat close to the dropship, carving my initials into one end of the stick with a shard of metal that had broken off the ship, when someone sat next to me.

     “Hey, you’re Marcus Kane’s daughter right?” I turned to see Octavia and nodded expectantly.

      “That I am..” I replied slightly bitter. “But you can call me (Y/N).” I held my hand out for her to shake, but she hugged me instead. To say I was surprised would be an understatement.

     “Why aren’t you angry with me? My father was one of the people that got you put in the skybox in the first place.” I asked as she pulled away.

      “Because it wasn’t you who did it. It was your dad.” Well, she wasn’t wrong about that. A mischievous look appeared on her face. “Want to get into some trouble?”

      I mirrored her expression. “Oh hell yes!” We both giggled before I grabbed her hand and lead her to the dropship. We pulled up behind Clarke and Finn, who were recruiting two other guys to head over to Mount Weather. “Can we go now?”

     “Sounds like a party, make it six,” Octavia said as she gestured between the two of us. Clarke doesn’t protest, but a certain oldest Blake does. He grabbed Octavia’s shoulder causing her to let go of my hand.

     “Hey, what the hell are you doing?” Bellamy scolded Octavia.

     “Going for a walk,” she retorted as she pulled out of his grip. “Are you coming (Y/N)?”

     I glanced from the group to Bellamy a few times, debating whether to follow along to Mount Weather or to help Bellamy around the dropship. Although I’d probably be more help with the group of five, something in my gut told me I’d be just as helpful here.

     “I’ll stay here and help Wells and Bellamy with keeping order. As I’m sure they’ll need my help” I sauntered back over to the ship, ignoring Clarke and Octavia calling my name and a gaping Bellamy.

     Throughout the day I helped Wells with pretty much everything, but as soon as the sun was near the horizon I decided to stop for the day. I wasn’t blind to Murphy trying to get people to take off their wristbands. Such an action was most likely something Bellamy put him up to as he was the only one that could benefit from it. The only question was why.

     A shadow casted to the ground by the fire told me there was someone behind me.

     “If you even think you can get the upper hand on me to get off my wristband, think again Blake.” It wasn’t a long shot if it was him, and my suspicions were proven right when the man himself sat down next to me.

     “How did you —”

     “Your shadow gave it away you idiot and only you or Murphy would dare approach me from behind. Not that Murphy has though.” He just nodded as I finally turned to him.

     Although I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, Bellamy was handsome. His slightly tousled black hair, brown eyes and olive skin put him under the tall, dark and mysterious category. I tore my gaze away before it became borderline staring.

     “Was there anything else you wanted to talk about, Blake?” I questioned. He shifted in his spot slightly.

     “Thank you for earlier, with Octavia,” He admitted. “Although I’m certainly not a fan of your father, thank you.” Something in my gut told me he really did mean what he said.

     “I’m not heartless, Blake” I retorted. “Compared to Chancellor Jaha and everyone else on the council, I’m a puppy.” We shared a look and snorted, trying to stifle our own laughs.

     “Why a puppy?” He asked.

     “Because although I look innocent, anything can still set me off and my bite is much worse than my bark.” I stood to my feet, dusting off any dirt and sauntered back over to the dropship. 

     A couple of hours later the world was enveloped in darkness, our only source of light being from the fire. Everything in me wanted to ignore the world around me. However, the muffled sound of arguing grew louder and louder as I left my daze.

     “My father didn’t write the laws,” Wells’ voice admitted. My gaze looked up and landed on the arguing figures of Wells and Bellamy.

     “No. He enforced him, but not any more, not here,” Blake shrugged. “Here there are no laws. Here, we do whatever the hell we want, whenever the hell we want. Now, you don’t have to like it Wells. You can even try to stop it, change it, kill me. You know why? Whatever the hell we want.”

     I stood up, opening my mouth with every intention to object — at least get Wells and Bellamy to compromise on the situation — but Bellamy seemed to notice this and sharply shook his head. My eyes narrowed at him and scowled. He was taken aback by my scowl and I had no idea why.

     “Whatever the hell we want!” Murphy yelled out to the crowd. The crowd of teenager, minus Wells and I, followed in suit and started chanting the only rule established. A rule that would do more harm than good. 

     “Am I the only one who thinks this is gonna result in chaos?” I asked Wells.

     “You’re not the only one.”

     He wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me close and I rested my head on his shoulder. Something that didn’t go amiss by the eldest Blake. Bellamy’s face was unreadable and I didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

     A low rumble echoed from above before a downpour of rain decided to settle. Our first thunderstorm. A soft sigh left my chest as a smile formed on my face. The rain felt so good and I just didn’t care about getting soaked.

     I allowed myself to enjoy the rain a little while longer, looking around at the other delinquents with a smile. My smile fades almost instantly when my eyes meet Bellamy’s dark chocolate orbs. I scowled once more at him before scavenging around for something to collect water in. He needed to know I wasn’t onboard with his so called plan.

     The handrests of the seats inside the dropship ended up being perfect. I struggled a little getting some off, but I managed. With my small collection of water troughs, I sat them outside sitting in front of me as they collected the rain water. 

     The thunderstorm didn’t last for very long, but I’m left with a few troughs filled with fresh water. I drunk some water until my thrist was satisfied and I made sure Wells got some as well. Any water-filled troughs still completely full I snuck into the dropship to hide. 

     Wells then took my hand and lead me to a tree across the clearing and we helped each other up. We sat on a thick enough branch that could hold both our weights, sitting there in silence comfortably for a couple minutes, my head resting on his shoulder. Wells was the one to break the underlying tension in the air.

     “I think we need to address the elephant in the room…” Wells trailed off. He took my hands in his and turned the both of us around, our legs dangling on either side of the branch. I could only sigh and nod.

     “I know we’ve been best friends since we were toddlers and have always been affectionate with each other, but the cuddle in the dropship got me thinking.” Our fingers threaded through each other as he spoke. “I… I want us to be be more friends.”

     My head perked up at his words. Not going to lie, I did develop a crush on Wells two years before I was chucked in the skybox. However, I never acted on it as we had been best friends for years. We grew up together and at one point I thought he had a crush on Clarke.

     “But what about Clarke?” I mumbled as he took my cheeks in his hands.

     “It’s always been you.”

     His lips melted onto my own. Although his lips were slightly chapped from dehydration they were still incredibly soft. It felt as if a fire had started in my heart and I didn’t want it to stop. We eventually had to part for air, but he quickly slammed his lips back on mine, this time his tongue slipping into my mouth. We fought for dominance over each other, but Wells ultimately won. Our lips parted once more and we panted as we caught our breath.

     Wells rested his head on my own and we both sighed.

     “I’d hug you, but I’m worried we’d fall out of the tree.” Wells chuckled and pecked my lips. “I’ll find another tree nearby to sleep, we wouldn’t want people getting the wrong idea.”

     I pecked his lips before jumping down from the tree. Almost everyone was asleep, so I walked quietly as possible to the closest tree nearby. I laid down, resting my head and back against the tree. Just as I was about to succumb to sleep a familiar presence sat down next to me.

     “To what do I owe the displeasure of having your presence, Blake.” Bellamy snorted at what I said.

     “I’m flattered you knew it was me,” he smirked.

     “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” I clapped back. I finally turned to his annoyingly handsome face. Gods I wanted to kiss that smirk off his face — wait what?! I kissed Wells only minutes ago and I was already thinking about kissing someone else?

     “So…” he trailed off. “You and Jaha. When did that happen?” I gaped at the thought of how to respond. 

     “We both had crushes on each other, prior to us both being thrown in the skybox,” I admitted. “Neither of us acted on it before the Ground.” He nodded, but something in his eyes told me he was disappointed about something.

     Mentioning being thrown into the skybox reminded me why I was put in there in the first place. Me trying to expose to the rest of the Ark that life-support was failing, my father being the one to chuck me inside and throw away the key. It was a cowardly move and my father knew it. He never even came to see me the utter bastard.

     “I need help taking off my wristband.” Bellamy looked at me with disbelief. “I want to take it off, but I don’t want to hurt myself.”

     He stared at me right in my eyes, probably to see with there was any hesitation in them. However, when he saw none he helped with the wristband, slipping it off with ease.

     “Thank you.” He wasn’t really supposed to hear my thanks, but he did, just giving me a small smile before he walked off in the other direction.

     My eyes glossed with water, the teardrops threatening to escape but only a single tear rolled down my cheek.

     I’m sorry, Dad.

Taglist:

@hftff-lol​ 

[dongofthewolf]

Dancing in the Deepest Oceans- Chapter 3

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader

Your first date with Abby doesn’t go quite as planned.

Warnings: mentions of blood and injury, swearing, angst, hurt/comfort, uhhh yea I did that

Here’s chapter three! It definitely took way longer than I expected to do since I really wanted to get a lot of those requests done, so I’m v sorry about that.

Also I kinda cheated and included someone’s request for a bath scene with Abby in this so shhhhh it’s fine I’m just lazy productive like that okay LOL. I hope you all enjoy (esp if you requested the scene) ! :)

Read the previous chapter here

You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. You felt like the protagonist in one of those cheesy rom-coms from back in the day; the ones where the girl suddenly stumbles into the arms of her true love and everyone sings a happy song, except this isn’t a movie and also it’s kind of the apocalypse or whatever. You didn’t care though, this was the closest thing to rom-com perfection you were getting and you couldn’t complain, because it was with her.

Though you had only known Abby for a few short days, something inside you couldn’t help but feel like you had known her your entire life. The intimacy of those few stolen glances, the slight brushes of your shoulders, the way your hand fit perfectly in hers; it all felt so natural. You just hoped she felt the same way. 

--

She should be here.

You glanced down at your watch again, it was 8:15. Maybe you had heard her wrong? No, she definitely said eight o clock. Your mind swarmed with possible excuses as to why she wasn’t here; perhaps she thought you were meeting at seven and now she was the one who thought you were standing her up, or maybe she thought you guys were meeting at your room and this was the fault of some kind of miscommunication, or maybe she simply forgot. You racked your brain for any possibilities as to why she wasn’t here, trying your best to neglect the most obvious reason out of denial or maybe fear.

The hallway was dark and quiet, the tile floor cold against your skin as you sat with your knees tucked tightly against your chest. Your back ached from leaning against the steel door, and you had become increasingly more embarrassed every time someone passed by. Their lingering gazes made you want to disappear into the earth beneath you. 

For at least an hour, you sat outside her door contemplating whether or not you should wait for her. Was this whole thing a mistake? Your heart began to sink at the frightening possibility that she had been toying with your feelings this whole time, that you were just a naive girl with a childish crush on this person you barely even knew. God, how could you have been so stupid? This is exactly why you never formed attachments; they always ended in heartbreak, disappointment, or both. As more time passed, the fear and sadness that occupied your thoughts slowly began to fade into frustration.

This was dumb. Why were you waiting around for her like some lost kitten? You scoffed at how pathetic you felt. Anger began to rise in your chest as you thought of all the things you’d say to her when you saw her—how you’d scold her for standing you up, dreaming up this gigantic speech about how if she wasn’t interested she should’ve just told you. Or maybe instead of yelling you would just never speak to her again. Give her the silent treatment for the rest of your life. That is what she wanted anyways, right? 

As you sat there arguing silently with yourself you heard a pair of heavy footsteps headed towards you. You craned your neck to try and see who or what was approaching you, but the hallway was too dark to get a clear view. Panic quickly replaced the anger that had been occupying your heart just seconds ago as you stood up from your uncomfortable position. You could hear the adrenaline pumping in your ears as you squint your eyes at the dark figure headed towards you. A sudden rush of relief fell over you when a familiar face appeared out of the shadows.

“Y/N.” Manny emerged from the darkness. His hair was slicked back into a bun and he wore a nervous expression on his face. The sole of his boots were caked with a thick layer of mud that left a trail of footprints in the hallways, and you pitied the poor soul who would have to clean it up.

“Where’s Abby?” There was a sharpness to your words. You knew you should've been a bit more conversational (Manny had done nothing to you after all), but after sitting on the floor for an hour, you didn’t feel like wasting time on bullshit small talk. If Abby was going to send Manny to get rid of you instead of doing it herself, then the last thing you cared about right now was seeming polite.

“Right, about that…” You raised your eyebrow, Manny’s expression was difficult to interpret and you could tell he was here to break some kind of news to you, but for some reason it felt like whatever bomb he was about to drop was far worse than what you had expected.

“Manny, what’s going on?” You took a small step towards him, searching his face for an answer.

“Isaac sent Abby and I on a supply run this morning. Nothing too difficult, just transporting a few things to another base but…” Manny looked down at his feet as he contemplated his next words “but we ran into a group of scars on our way back and we got separated.”

You suddenly felt a tinge of guilt for thinking all those things about Abby. “W-what do you mean you got separated? Where’s Abby now?” 

Manny’s eyes were fixed to the floor as he delivered the news, his thumbs twiddling together nervously. “I uh… well, I don’t know.” Manny noticed your face twist with anger at his answer and tried to diffuse some of it “But Isaac’s already sent out a group to find her. It’s going to be okay Y/N, Abby is one of Isaac’s top soldiers and you know he’ll do whatever he can to find her.”

You were speechless, but more than anything you were frustrated. Frustrated at yourself for thinking such horrible things about Abby—for having such little faith in her. You wanted to scream at your past self for being so ignorant. Tears began to well in your eyes and Manny’s words did little to comfort you.

“I should be out there.” You marched down the hallway determined to find Abby but Manny was quicker.

His hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you back “You can’t go out there Y/N, you’ll die. Abby’s smart, okay? She’ll find her way back.” 

You tried to resist his grip on your wrist even though you knew he was right. You weren’t a soldier nor did you have the proper training to leave the outpost alone. And while a large part of you knew it was stupid to try and leave, a much bigger part of you didn’t care. You had to find Abby; you were willing to do anything, even if that meant putting yourself in harm's way. 

“I don’t care, I have to go out there.” You managed to yank yourself free from his grip and booked it towards the door but Manny was quick and caught you. Wrapping his arms around your stomach and hoisting you over his shoulder Manny carried you into his and Abby’s room while you fought and cried like a little kid. 

“Fucking let go of me Manny!” Tears stained your cheeks as you sobbed into Manny’s shirt. 

When Manny finally set you down on his bed you were exhausted from crying; the only thing left in your heart now was an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. You weren’t even allowed to leave the outpost to look for Abby, and the only thing you could do was sit in this wretched room praying she didn’t get mauled by a clicker or hung by a Seraphite. 

Manny didn’t feel any better about this than you did, in fact it was his job as Abby’s partner to watch out for her and he failed. Now his best friend was missing and it’s all his fault. The guilt weighed heavily on Manny as he tried to comfort you while you wept silently into his pillow. Even though he couldn’t have possibly predicted the surprise attack, he still felt like this entire thing was his doing. He tried to plead with Isaac to let him go back out and search for Abby but he refused, so Manny figured keeping you safe was the least he could do. 

Hours later you got up from Manny’s bed to use the bathroom, and he was nowhere to be found. You figured he probably went to bother Isaac about Abby or something, he was persistent like that.

You splashed some cold water on your face before tipping your head under the faucet to help ease the dryness in your throat. When you brought your head back up you almost didn’t recognize the person staring back at you in the mirror. Your eyes were red and puffy and there were dark circles under your eyes like you haven’t slept in days. You looked like a mess. Your hair was wild and unruly but at least with that outfit you had spent way too long picking out, you still looked pretty cute. 

At least you were a hot mess.

The longer you stared at yourself in the mirror, the more unrecognizable your face became. And then for reasons you couldn’t explain, you started laughing. A hysterical laugh that echoed off the walls in the bathroom like a sick symphony fell unwillingly from your mouth, and you couldn’t stop. There was something so incredibly sardonic about the events of these past few hours, that your body just decided to break out into a breathless cackle. It was a twisted reaction to a terrifying situation but for some reason it wouldn’t go away. Your stomach began to ache and your throat was dry and sore again. It felt like this sickening nightmare would never end. 

You felt tears begin to well up again when you heard something that immediately shook you from your shocked state: the rattling of the doorknob.

Your heart swelled with hope as you ran towards the door, not concerned about waking up the people in the rooms next door with your loud footsteps. The door creaked open, flooding the dark room with a pale yellow light that blinded you, and from that light emerged a figure you knew all too well— one that you had become intimately familiar with.

Abby limped through the door, at first not even realizing you were standing right there. You were looming in the darkness like some kind of monster, and you tried to speak but nothing came out. The only thing that snapped you out of it was the sound of Abby’s voice, hoarse and hushed like she was speaking into the darkness rather than you. God, you almost forgot how much you loved the sound of her voice. 

“Y/N?” Abby wasn’t sure if she was imagining this. She thought maybe the expired pain meds had some hallucinatory side effects and you were just what she wanted to see the most. Abby’s doubts faded into nothing when you took a small step into the light. In that moment she knew that this was real—that you were real.

When your eyes finally adjusted to the harsh lights you saw her face and gasped. To say Abby was in rough shape would be putting it lightly. There were cuts and bruises all over her face and body, and her clothes were absolutely filthy, but you couldn’t be bothered with that right now. You ran into her arms to embrace her tightly and Abby winced at the contact. Quickly you pulled back out of fear you hurt her, but Abby’s arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you back in.

Abby let out a loud exhale and for a small moment the jabbing pains all over her body ceased to exist. The only thing occupying her mind was the warmth of your body—how she could feel your heart beating with how tightly she was holding you, and she could finally exhale.

When you pulled away, a flood of emotions suddenly began to flow through you, filling you to the brim until the only words you could manage to mutter out through choked sobs were “I thought you were-“

“I know. I’m sorry.” There was a somber expression on Abby’s face as she wiped the tears from your cheek with the pads of her thumbs. 

You sniffed, looking up at her, you cleared your throat before speaking “Jesus Abby, your face.“ you softly grabbed Abby’s chin, examining her injuries in the light. There were crimson slices all over her face, and she was beaten black and blue. A particularly deep cut on her forehead had been stitched carefully and there was a cotton bandage wrapped around her left forearm. The state of your distress now seemed like peanuts compared to Abby’s state.

Without thinking you hugged Abby again tightly, revelling in the comfort of her embrace. Abby’s eyes were closed when you wrapped your arms around her, her eyebrows were furrowed and you weren’t sure if she was about to cry or scream. Though you didn’t know much about Abby, you did know she was a soldier—a warrior who wasn’t disturbed easily. You had no idea what she had just been through, but whatever happened had shaken her up pretty good. 

“Here.” Bringing your arms up to the strap of her backpack, you helped her ease it off her shoulder. She let out a breath of relief as you lifted the weight from her back and placed it near the door. 

Looking at Abby now you finally realized how dirty she was. There was mud and grime all over her clothes and her braid was loose and unruly. 

“Hey, uh I’ll run a bath for you, just wait here.” Considering her state you figured a bath would be more relaxing than a shower. Besides, you needed to feel useful right now, and if that meant taking care of Abby for a bit? You didn’t mind at all.

Hesitantly, you made your way to the bathroom and laid out a small towel on the tile floor. Turning on the faucet, you placed the plug in the tub and made your way to Abby, guiding her to the edge of the tub. “Let me know if the water is too hot, okay?”

Abby nodded as she ran her hand under the running water, letting the warmth fall between her fingers. When the tub was full, you turned off the faucet and stood up, using Abby’s shoulders to help steady you as you started for the door but something stopped you. 

“Wait-“ You stopped, Abby’s hand was over the one you placed on your shoulder, securing it there so you wouldn’t leave. She looked at you with pleading eyes as she spoke “Can… can you stay?” Abby didn’t say anything more but you could tell by the look in her eyes she needed you here. 

“Sure. I’ll turn around and you can get undressed.” You turned to face the door, looking down at the tile floor as you traced the crevices with your finger. The only sound that could be heard was the droplets of water that fell from the faucet echoing against the walls and the soft rustling of Abby removing her clothes. Eventually you heard Abby lower herself into the tub, she let out a loud sigh as the tension in her muscles dissipated from the warm water.

“You can turn around now.” Abby’s voice was quiet when she finally spoke.

Slowly you turned around to see Abby sitting in the tub, her legs tucked against her chest as she hugged herself tightly. Her eyes were fixed on the floor of the tub while she rested her chin on her knee. It broke your heart when you saw her injuries in the light. There were deep purple bruises along her shoulder blades and scabbed over cuts along her arms and legs. You also saw scars, a lot of them. Some were old and faded, while others were new, probably sustained within the last couple of weeks.

The steam from the water floated up, fogging the mirrors and warming the room. You made your way to the edge of the tub with a small washcloth, dipping it into the water just slightly. “Here.”

Bringing your finger to Abby’s chin you lifted her eyes to face yours. Her features softened when you met her gaze and lightly you brought the washcloth to her face. Careful to avoid the stitches on her forehead, you rid the dirt from her face, dipping the cloth into the water every once in a while before bringing it back to her face.

Her freckles were more prominent in the light and her eyes stuck attentively studying your movements. When all the grime was gone, you couldn’t help but notice a whisper of a blush on Abby’s cheeks. 

“One hell of a first date, huh?” Abby spoke seriously but you could see a hint of a smirk on the edge of her mouth. A bit of her normal self was beginning to return.

Sitting up more straight now you gave her a small smile. “This is definitely the most interesting one I’ve ever been on.” 

You reached for her braid, undoing the elastic and separating the strands from each other while Abby spoke. “Oh so you’ve never bathed someone during a first date?”

“I can confidently say that this is my first.” Grabbing the small bar of soap from the dish in the corner, you dipped it into the water and lathered it between your fingers. 

The soap filled the air with the scent of pine and rain and you sighed at the smell. It filled your senses and reminded you of the first time you saw her. Not the time in the cafeteria but on that rainy day when you bumped into her for the first time. You inhaled deeply; it smelled like her.

Gently you began massaging the bubbles into Abby’s hair. Weaving the blonde locks through your fingers, and purposely taking longer than necessary. Watching closely as Abby’s muscles relaxed and her eyes fluttered closed from your touch. 

“Lean back.” Shielding her face from the water you grabbed a cup and poured the water over her head, letting the bubbles wash away from her scalp and into the water. “Is this okay?” 

Abby hummed in response and you took that as a yes. You repeated the process while you washed the soap from her hair, doing it a couple more times than needed because you knew it calmed her. 

The bathroom was quiet again, the only sound coming from the steady flow of water from the cup onto her head, and into the water. It was peaceful, and the both of you were content in this familiar silence. Appreciating each other’s company without the need to fill the air.

When you were done you sat up and laid out a towel for Abby, drying your hands on your shirt. “I’ll grab you some clean clothes, just give me a sec.” 

You left Abby to dry off while you searched for some clean clothes. Grabbing what you assumed was a clean shirt and a pair of sweatpants, you made your way back to the bathroom. Standing outside the door, you knocked lightly. “Can I come in?” 

Before you could wait for an answer, Abby opened the door a bit, hiding herself behind it. You handed Abby the clothes and she gave you an appreciative smile, it was small but genuine. “Thanks.” 

You sat beside the bathroom door waiting for Abby and trying not to think about the fact that she could’ve died out there. She was here and that’s all that mattered for now.

Your mind wandered as you picked at your sleeve, you noticed there were a few wet spots on your shirt from the edge of the tub. The cool air made you shiver and you regretted not bringing a sweater, even if this was supposed to be a night in. 

When Abby finally emerged from the bathroom you quickly stood up, unsure of what to do next. Her hair was still damp and spread across her shoulders; this was the first time you had ever seen her without that signature braid and you were in awe of how beautiful she looked. It was such a strange thought but it was the only thing occupying your mind. There was something so rare about seeing her like this that you couldn’t stop the flutter in your heart when it happened. 

Grabbing her hand, you led her to the bed on the opposite side of Manny’s and pulled the covers back so she could slip in. When she settled under the sheets you neatly tucked her in before standing up again. 

You didn’t know what to do now. Would it be rude to stay? Abby clearly needed the rest, but something in you desperately wanted to stay. You decided to let her sleep and started towards the door when you heard a small voice from beneath the covers. “Stay. Please.”

Abby’s voice was quiet and you could hear the exhaustion behind it. You looked at her with a smile and sat down on the bed next to her, pushing a strand of hair from her forehead before smoothing it down softly. She looked at you apologetically as you caressed her head, and  you gave her a look of reassurance even if you were scared out of your mind. Her eyes fluttered closed and her features softened from your touch. You stayed like this for a while, continuing even after her breathing had slowed and you knew she was asleep.

You stayed up watching her sleep; studying the way her mouth was slightly agape as she let out small breaths. She looked so peaceful.

A small teardrop escaped from your eye, and you quickly wiped it away. You knew this wasn’t going to be the last time she’d be like this; battered and bruised and fighting a war that seemed to never end. It hurt your heart to know that she was on this path of self-destruction, but what hurt most was knowing she’d likely never stop. 

You tried not to think about that right now. Eventually letting your attention fall onto the wet shirt that was still stuck to different parts of your body. Removing the item you walked over to the drawer where you had found the clothes for Abby and slipped on one of her t-shirts. It was devastatingly oversized on you but it was warm and smelled like her. 

You settled onto the space next to Abby’s bed, ignoring the ache in your back as you lay flat on the floor beneath you. Though the pain was worth enduring with the knowledge that Abby was here, and that’s all that mattered to you right now. 

While you lay on the floor you began thinking about how different things were just hours ago. It wasn’t long ago that you were practically dancing like an idiot in your mirror because you were going on a date with Abby. It’s strange how many emotions you had gone through in one day, you were almost positive you had broken some kind of record. You chuckled at yourself; surely no one was going to spontaneously break out into a song like in the movies, but you didn’t mind. This was enough— being here with Abby was enough. 

Eventually, exhaustion overtook your body and you quickly felt your eyes becoming heavier. The floor was beginning to feel a lot more comfier than when you had sat down and before you knew it, you had fallen into a deep slumber.

[alexhogh7137]

The God and the Seer ~

Ivar the Boneless × Hecate

Chapter Four: The Arrival

Chapter Three is here...

"He wears the smell of blood and death like a perfume."

**Hecate meaning~the Goddess of Magic, Witchcraft and Necromancy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You awoke to the smell of burning wood. It scorched your nose hairs, making you winch your nose. You blink as many times as needed for your eyes to become clear, then you peared out the glassless window. What you saw made your insides turn in on themselves. It was soldiers. Sheld maidens and warriors. But the leader, was the one leading with the flame. He was tall, you could tell that much. The men kept coming. It seemed never ending. You close your eyes so tight, in case it was only a nightmare. Sadly, your eyes reopen and they were even closer. You do not know how they found you, or who even 'they' are!

"Okay..i guess i have to do this.." but before you could open the palms of your hands, you hear the leader shout.

"There she is, NOW!" And instantly, an arrow flew into your chest. For a second, nothing hurt. It felt like someone flicked you in your sternum. But then, the burning came and you could barely breathe. Then suddenly, everything went dark. However, you could feel your weightless body hit the stones.

...

Before Hvitserk set out for his quest to find you, Ivar had a long talk with him. Ivar knew you more than he knew his own wife. A woman he has never met before, but somehow knows everything about? He does not understand a single thing, and for Ivar, that was new. That is why he needs to find you as quickly as possible to get the answers he so desperately seeks. He feels like he is going mad, and Freydis is getting exceedingly more scared of her husband. She has not seen her son Baldur in a day or two now and she is sickened by the thought that Ivar has something to do with his disappearance. She too, has talked to Hvitserk and he shares her concerns as well but he knows that his brother could and absolutely would do such a thing.

Ivar "Are the men ready?"

Hvitserk clears his throat, "Yes."

Ivar looks off into the distance at his men and slowly nods, "Good." Hvitserk starts to walk away when Ivar stops him with his crutch, "Not yet Hvitserk. I need to talk to you first."

Hvitserk scuffs, "Very well, what is it?"

Ivar "I want you to kill her-"

Hvitserk "What?!"

Ivar "She will not die.." Hvitserk steps back and crosses his arm's around his chest. "If she is wounded, her powers will heal her."

Hvitserk "So you are telling me that this witch is immortal?"

Ivar "I would not go that far Hvitserk. But her powers can heal her. This may be the only way you and our men can come back alive. As soon as she see's you, she can kill you all within seconds." Hvitserk swallows deeply at the thought. "She must be wounded enough to where she is unconscious, barely alive even..bring her back to me, by the time you reach Kattegat..her wounds will be healed, i am sure of it."

Hvitserk "You know way too much about this witch Ivar, but not where your own son is-"

Ivar "Do not question me about my son!" His attitude switched from being concerned about his brother's safety and wellbeing to wanting him dead as if he was flicking a light switch.

Hvitserk "It is true Ivar. Where is he?"

Ivar "I do not know." He folds his lips tightly and backs away from his brother, "i will not speak of this. He was my son, not yours!"

Hvitserk "Was..?" Ivar let it slip. His son was born wrong-crippled in a way. He could not let him suffer his whole life as he is. So he left him out in the woods a day ago. But he cannot let his brother know what he has done.

Ivar "Yes Hvitserk, was. We have not seen him! He must have been stolen by a traitor! I will find out who did this.. you need to leave."

Hvitserk "Now i am not too sure as the real reason why you are sending me away from Kattegat." He said those words and walked out of the doors. Ivar watched his brother lead the army and out of the gates with his heart in his throat. Maybe he didn't have to leave his own son to die. He crutches his way back to his chambers where he finds Freydis with tears in her eyes.

Ivar "Freydis, what is it?"

Freydis "They found our son.. They found his tiny body shriveled up in the cold-frozen to death in the woods."

Ivar "How-"

Freydis "Did you do this Ivar? Did you kill our son?"

Ivar scuffs, "I am not sure that poor crippled b*stard was my son!"

Freydis "How could you say that-of course he was your son!" He hits his wife and she whimpers. She walks out of the room, leaving Ivar with his thoughts. He knows that she knows and that is not exceptable.

~~~~~~~~~~

When Hvitserk walked into your chambers, he found you with the arrow in your chest. He felt almost bad for ordering his men to do this to you. When he got closer, he saw all of your scars. So many bruises covered your body that he could hardly see your skintone. His heart sank. You are still a girl. A young girl at that.

"What is the order?" A man asked. Hvitserk doesn't look at the warrior, only answers him, "I will put her on the back of my horse."

"I do not think that that is wise.. she is a witch."

Hvitserk "I know what she is! But she is dying, she cannot harm me now." He says as he take out the arrow and places it beside you. He saw the blood puddle quickly worsen and his worry for you grew.

"What is this place? Surely the Gods have not seen or touched this horrid place.." a man said. Hvitserk looks around and finds small scrappings of food but mainly books. The smell was awful and the cold was brutal. He found the fireplace but the coal had been burned out a long time ago. There was no one in sight but you. Where was everyone? Surely you couldn't rule over a kingdom with no souls to rule over. What has happened to this desolate kingdom?

Hvitserk "I do not know how the cold did not kill her before we came here?"

A man starts laughing, "Yes..i mean the witch is barely wearing any clothes-"

"A whore-witch!" Another man joined in. That angered Hvitserk. You were dying on the stones and his men are calling you those harsh words.

Hvitserk "She may be a witch but she did not choose this life, remember that." He walks towards the two men and get in there faces, "Now, if you do not shut your fowel mouths, i will gladly shut them for you!" He growled. The men backed away and apologized instantly. He did not continue the conversation and went back towards you and picked you up in his arm's. He carried you down the steep steps and all the way to his horse and once you were on mounted, he saw the burn marks on your hands.

Hvitserk "How did you get these?" He whispered to himself.

"What did you say?" A man asked as he walked by to get to his horse.

Hvitserk "Nothing. Get on your horses and make way back to Kattegat!" He mounts his horse and thinks to himself, 'she better not wake up before i get there.'

...

Every now and then, Hvitserk would look behind him to make sure that you were not awake. He only found a long blood trail that went in the path of his horse. He realizes that if you are not what Ivar says you are, then he just killed a young woman in cold blood. The thought brought tears to his eyes. He has lost all of the women he has ever loved and Thora looked like you. Not completely, but your body matches hers and your delicate features do as well. He tries his best to stop the thought and get back to Kattegat as quickly as possible. The snow storm is almost unbearable to travel in. While your powers worked on your through-and-through wound, your vision didn't stay black. You saw what you thought was the present: you saw Ivar hovering over you with a blonde headed boy standing next to him. You didn't know his name, only Ivar's.

Ivar "Hello Hecate, we finally meet. Now tell me before you die, how are we connected?"

"Wh-what?"

Ivar "You heared me. You know who i am, do not play that game. If you do not give me the answers that i am looking for, than i will put you out of your misery quicker then i intend too." He forces an evil grin that makes you terrified of him.

"I-i do not know! You know just as much as i do." You look down and find a slowly healing wound in your chest where the arrow was.

Ivar "I do not believe you-"

"Please- it burns- IT BURNS!" and in seconds, the barn in which you were placed in, catches in flames and you awake.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ivar hears his men arrive early the next morning and he could feel your presence getting closer and closer. He awakes Freydis and she is hesitant to even look at Ivar.

Ivar "You must get up."

Freydis "What do you want Ivar?"

Ivar "The witch is here-"

Freydis "A what?"

Ivar "The witch that is causing all of this to happen to us! I will put an end to the era of witches..i promise. You must forgive me, but i must go." He says as he hurriedly puts his clothes on. Freydis does not have time to answer before he crutches his way out of the door. Hvitserk had to wound you again before your arrival because you awoke a few miles before he reached Kattegat. It was not as lethal as the arrow, but it was enough to keep you down for as long as he needed. His fear of you came back when you awoke. He remembered what you were and he did what was needed to stay alive. Even though he was not sure if he wants to be.

When Ivar found Hvitserk, you were not with him and that angered Ivar.

Ivar "Where is she?!"

Hvitserk "Over there.." he points to a barn-ish area where he saw blooded feet. He nods at his brother and his men that came back with him and made his way over to you. You were covered in blood but he was expecting that. What he wasn't expecting, was the smell, the burn marks, the bruises nor the scars on your body. He expected a woman with not even a scratch on her besides the one his brother inflicted. He expected a powerful, enchanting woman but all he found was a young girl fighting to stay alive.

Ivar "Hvitserk-"

Hvitserk "I know. I was not expecting this either. I thought that you said that she was this terrifying witch."

Ivar "That's right! This cannot be right."

Hvitserk "What do you mean? This is her-"

Ivar "Yes, yes..this is Hecate but not the way i see her in my visions. She does not look fragile like this. I don't understand."

Hvitserk "You better be right Ivar." Ivar looks at him, "Because if you made me kill a young woman who was all alone in a kingdom, this beaten up.. then i will kill you." He says as he walks away from his brother. Ivar does not respond, he is only more confused. What has happened to you? Why are you so..broken?

As you awoke for the second time, just as you knew it to be true, you saw Ivar and the blonde headed man hovering over you. He wears the smell of blood and death like perfume. He is finally standing before you. Finally. This time, it is not a dream. You attempt to move but you feel the burns from your wounds that are still trying to heal completely. You then notice that your hands are covered and unmovable. You start to hyperventilate.

Hvitserk "Shh, shh. You are okay. I won't let anyone hurt you. This is just a precaution."

"Who are you?"

Hvitserk "My name is Hvitserk. And this is my brother-"

"Ivar."

Ivar "Hello Hecate, we finally mee-"

"Yeah, yeah, i have heard all of this before." You say as you wince in pain.

Ivar "Excuse me?"

"I saw all of this before i was brought here. But Hvitserk did not introduce himself and my hands were not bound. Why have you done this to me?"

Ivar "You are a witch..self explanatory huh?"

You scuff, "I only harm those who try to harm me."

Hvitserk "Sorry about that..Ivar's orders."

"You did this to me?" He regretfully nods, "How did you even find me?"

Ivar "I had a vision of Scotland. I knew that you were there, somewhere."

"Why am i here Ivar?"

Ivar "We are connected somehow and i want to know why?"

"I don't know.."

Ivar "You don't what?"

"I do not know." You wheeped. "I don't understand. I awoke from being casted to sleep by my father and then a few minutes later, i was crippled." Ivar simply listens, "My mother was a witch. Much stronger than i am."

Ivar "And your father?"

"You killed him Ivar." Ivar and Hvitserk were bother taken aback, "he was your Seer." And in that moment, Ivar knew that they're lives would change forever.

@hvitserkmarcosource @youbloodymadgenius @saldelys @heavenly1927 @xceafh @readsalot73 @chaotic-shadow-witch

[skiyoosmi]

if fate permits

chapter twenty-one

i'm casting a spell on you

previous < masterpost > next

The winds have begun to get colder and today, people who were planning to go outside were advised to put at least an extra layer of clothing or two. Apparently, the snow will begin to lightly fall anytime this month; however, Atsumu felt the exact opposite– he was boiling in the searing anger jealousy he was feeling as he watched you and that spiky-haired boy get cozier with each other from across the room, giggling together like teenagers while you added some finishing touches on the props you were both so “focused” on. He never took notice of it before, but for some reason, Iwaizumi Hajime really gets on his nerves every time he sees him, especially when with you; but he’ll never admit that to anyone, of course, not to a single soul, not even to Osamu (he can already picture the smug face of his twin brother, all while saying: “Serves you right, you egoistic little shit!”)

He thought of stomping his way towards you, but all his plans remain in vain because once again, the director of the play is calling them for yet another round of rehearsals. The play will commence the day after tomorrow and they really couldn’t afford to waste time. “As much as possible, let us fix what has to be fixed, improve what has to be improved; because in less than two days, there will be no room for those things,” said Miyu, the head as she pushed them towards the stage, where some of the backdrop had already been set up. He grimly follows the other actors, unaware of Yui’s presence as she followed each and every bit of his movement (and trail of vision) before rolling her eyes, “So, it’s you, huh, YN?”

On the other side of the room, Hajime stared at you and listened as you asked – more like rambled to – him for what felt like the hundredth time today, “So basically, you remember every single thing that happen in your life except those that are connected to your ex-soulmate… ex-soulmate sounds so weird, gosh…” Unlike with Tooru though, he can’t bring himself to snap at you no matter how repetitive you get. If he were being honest, he finds you a bit too adorable for your own good (not that he’ll tell you that because he’d rather die than be seen as creepy by you). So, he opts to simply watching you babble like a child; it’s more bearable than having to see you cry over that pissed-haired lad who can’t lower his pride for you (personally, he feels a little odd that he remembers who’s your soulmate instead of his). Silence engulfed you two as the actors and actresses began their rehearsals, letting the emotions flow out of them as they spoke their lines.

Miya Atsumu was a wonder to your eyes, enchanting you with magic you would’ve never imagined to feel as he caught your eyes, holding his stare as if to say: “I’m casting a spell on you, you won’t be able to get rid of me now.” It was as if acting was second nature to him and for the umpteenth time in your life, you found yourself going down a rabbit hole deeper than what Alice in Wonderland went to as your heart throbbed, feelings all over the place; pain, anxiety, love and all other things you can think of, it’s all for him– always for him.

“How pathetic,” you whisper to yourself, wiping the tears that persistently flowed down your cheeks. Why, why, why… why can’t I just unlove you? Your mind screamed as all the other crew members gave their applause, signifying that they have finished their practice and soon, you can see him making his way towards your direction, gaze fixated right where you and Hajime were standing, confusion and worry swimming in the pool of his eyes as he watched you cry for a reason he has no idea of.

He was almost there, less than one feet from you but fate decided to play with your heart once more as Yui appeared out of nowhere, linking her arms with Atsumu’s, who in turn looked at her in surprise, obviously not expecting a sudden display of affection from the girl, “Atsumu-kun, let’s eat lunch together!” She exclaims, barely giving you and your companion a glance (although Hajime could’ve sworn, he saw her give you a very deathly glare. What a strange woman, he thinks).

“W-wait… I need to talk to YN…” the blonde tries to reason but like persistent person she was, pulled him to the opposite direction, whining about how she was “so hungry” all of a sudden. Why, why, why… why can’t you just choose me?  And as fast as they came, they went away. How is it that every single time Atsumu walks away from you, it feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest too? Like he’s just taking it and leaving you with nothing?

“Well, that was interesting,” Hajime comments before turning to you, gasping when he saw your form; trembling and clutching a piece of the skirt you chose to wear in hopes of getting noticed by Atsumu, the waterworks flowing from your eyes once again. Aahh, it’s just hurts so damn much I feel like dying, you thought, just when will this sto–

A sudden warmth engulfed your whole body as Hajime hugged you, “You wouldn’t want anyone to see you cry, would you?” You nodded, burying yourself deeper in his arms, hoping that the pain goes away… But it never does, not before, not today, not ever; and just like that, you hate yourself for never telling Atsumu the truth because it seems like you were a bit too late now.

In the middle of the cafeteria sat Atsumu and Yui, who merely poked her food with the spoon she was holding, eyes looking up at her companion (even accompanied with the bat of her obviously fake eyelashes) who seems to be too preoccupied of waiting for you to appear in the area. She clicked her tongue in annoyance at his indifference towards her, before calling the blonde with that sickening sweet voice everybody just seemed to fall for.

“Atsumu-kun~” She calls out, even having the audacity to prolong the last syllables. She remains unheard though, much to her dismay; she rolls her eyes and tries for a few more times but all were in vain.

She clenches her fist that was beneath the table, “Atsumu! Are you freaking listening to me?”

Alas! The boy finally looks at her with uninterested eyes, mind obviously still flying in the air, “W-what?” he replies absentmindedly. She scoffs at his pathetic state; if anyone were to look at their way right now, it would look as if she was forcing Atsumu to sit with her – like it was torture to be with her right now.

“You’re making me feel really bad about myself right now, Atsumu-kun,” she whined and pouted, smirking mentally when Atsumu seemed to finally wake up to his senses and give her an apology, “are you sure you don’t like YN more than me? Cause I feel like you’d rather be with her right now.”

“No! Uhm… it’s just that we’re not in good terms right now and she’s my best friend; but I like you Yui… I really, really do,” he claims while staring straight into her eyes, ignorant of the evil that was behind them.

“Then prove it, Atsumu…” I don’t care about your attachment with that silly girl, “show me that you really like me.”

“What? How?” The boy furrowed his eyebrows, unable to think of ways to confirm to Yui that he, indeed, is interested in her. Hasn’t he been showing it with his words and sweetness since the day they met? How could she still doubt him? The said girl only smiled, eyes glinting with nothing but malice and wickedness: Miya Atsumu. I’m casting a spell on you; you can’t get rid of me now.

“Your best friend is a Moíra, isn’t she? Ask her to cut your thread so we can become soulmates.”

marga's notes. istG i tried to make yui a good girl but the plot line said no sksks so here's me trying to make you hate her instead >:)

taglist is closed